


Lost in My Own Home

by aibidil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (No infidelity see AN), 80s movies, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Clumsiness, Cosmology, Epilogue Compliant (sort of), Family, Family Feels, Getting Together, Halloween, M/M, Magical Theory, Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Minor Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Muffins, Multiverse, Mutual Pining, Nipple Piercings, Nymphadora Tonks Lives, Oral Sex, Parallel Universes, Past Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin Lives, Rimming, Rock Climbing, Samhain, Science Fiction, Shirtlessness, Slow Burn, UNO, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unspeakable Teddy Lupin, Unspeakables (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-28 17:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 105,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16727622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibidil/pseuds/aibidil
Summary: The Unspeakables think inter-universal travel is dangerous because it might cause information contamination or an increase in universal entropy. But, for Teddy Lupin, the real reason people shouldn't travel between universes is the chance that they might fall in love with a person who shouldn't exist—a person who is supposed to feel like Teddy's brother, not like his perfect match.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I was reading Connie Willis's "To Say Nothing of the Dog" at the same time as listening to the podfic of Turn by saras_girl; the sci-fi time-hopping of TSNofD and the parallel universes of Turn combined in my brain, and the idea consumed me until it was finished. 
> 
> Huge thanks to frnklymrshnkly for betaing, violetclarity and goldentruth813 for alphaing, maesterchill for britpicking, and to my sensitivity reader.
> 
> Content note: The fic is tagged Harry/Draco and Harry/Ginny, but there's no infidelity as the two relationships are in strictly different universes.
> 
> Spotify playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/wz2ay0oiq6i8gof2yeu4552uu/playlist/5XQ24DuS2LAqmXgVJQpNYU?si=I2MOtHR7QYiRQZbc5yYKqQ)!

Teddy Lupin pulls his black cardigan—one he stole from his mum's wardrobe a few years ago—tighter around his chest and leans back on the sofa, his shoulder pressing into his dad's.

"How much do you know about Muggle cosmology?" Teddy asks, taking a sip of blood-red wine.

His father's nose crinkles. "You mean their science about the origin of the universe? The Big Bang and black holes?"

Teddy grins and clinks his glass against his dad's glass of water. He knew he could count on his dad to know some general information about it. After eight years as an Unspeakable, Teddy has developed a knack for talking about his research in ways that won't run afoul of the Arcanum Vow that keeps him from discussing his work; and his dad, ever the Hogwarts professor, is familiar with many subjects, which makes it possible to talk in general terms about things Teddy is working on. Teddy loves his job, despite the aggravating bureaucracy; it is workable, even if he can't say, "Dad! Guess what! I'm studying the multiverse and trying to figure out the theory behind creating stable and safe portals to other universes!"

"Yes," Teddy says, looking around the parlour of Malfoy Manor as he waits for his father to gather his thoughts. It's chilly. It's always chilly in the Manor, the stone walls and vast spaces designed to achieve ends—luxury, decadence, ostentation—other than comfort.

A large black marble table, with golden veins running through it, stands in the centre of the room, and on it, or floating above it really, roars a fire. It looks like any fire, though on a markedly impractical surface, but Teddy knows it is Conjured—unburning and fireproof. Narcissa bustles around it in long black robes, wearing a traditional pointed hat that reminds Teddy of the most commonly cast-off item of the Hogwarts uniform.

"I don't know very much," Remus says. "The Muggle scientific way of relating to it always seems so convoluted. Confusing."

"Right you are," Teddy replies, having spent the last three days reading books on the topic. He’d been assigned to report back on Muggle science and on case files of suspicious events. Muggle science is fascinating, to be sure, and he learned long ago not to question his assignments, but the Muggles tie themselves up in knots trying to understand the cosmos, and they have no hope, given that they're in the dark about magic. "One theory I read suggests that our entire universe exists inside a black hole, with Merlin knows what existing beyond it."

Remus snorts and shakes his head. "I can never make head nor tail of what they call a black hole."

"That's because they try to explain them with gravity, but any fifth year Astronomy student could guess they're really due to magic."

Remus smiles. "It's a shame our researchers can't work more with those Muggles. They're really incredibly smart."

Tonks, grinning, hair jet black for the occasion, jogs across the room and plops down on Teddy's other side.

"Mum!"

She gives Teddy a silly kiss on the cheek and reaches over him to hand a glass to Remus. "I brought you a drink," she says, sloshing a bit onto Teddy's trousers. "Oh bugger, sorry Ted."

Teddy waves his wand to Vanish the spill and wraps an arm around her shoulders. "No big deal. How are you? How are the new Auror recruits doing?"

"Oh, Circe and Cassandra," Tonks sighs, laughing. "They are a nightmare, as always. Think they know everything. This group seems to think their youth gives them a speed advantage or something? I don't know, but I had Ron come in and duel with them today. He took down the lot of them in about ten minutes. I think the longest it took him to fell a single opponent was about thirty-five seconds. They were humbled, I'll tell you that."

Teddy and Remus laugh. The mental image of Ron Weasley, ageing war hero and distinguished Auror, systematically taking down his mum's trainees is a heart-warming one.

"Did you do the memorial yet?" she asks, looking over at the fire.

"I did it on the way in," Teddy says.

Tonks nods, flops back onto the sofa, and looks up at the ornate ceiling.

Teddy knows it is harder for them—remembering the dead. He supposes if he'd fought a war—or in his dad’s case, two wars—it'd be hard for him, too, no matter how much time has passed. When Teddy remembers the dead, it has an abstraction to it. He always says a memorial for his mum's father, and for all the people who died in the wars, but it doesn't seem real. Not like for them, or for Harry.

Teddy feels his dad reach behind his shoulders to brush his mum's hair from her forehead. "It never gets easier, does it? But that's the point, I suppose, of Samhain. To remember, to welcome the dead into our hearts."

"Or into our homes," Tonks says wryly, gesturing at Narcissa. Narcissa has become more and more invested in the old magical traditions as she’s aged, and it is unclear to the rest of them whether she _actually_ thinks the departed souls will return, or if it is for her, as for the others, a strictly metaphorical summoning.

"Did she put potion in the wine this year?" Remus asks.

The liquid in Teddy's glass is dark red, dark enough that you'd question whether it was too dark to be wine. "No, it's just wine. Nice wine, too."

"Good," Remus says, and takes a sip.

"I'm going to get it over with," Tonks says. She stands up and walks to the fire, picking a stone off the marble table and casting a charm at it. Her face shines with determined strength as she tosses it into the flames and the fire flashes purple.

As he watches her pick up another stone, Teddy wonders who she remembered first. His eyes scan the room for his grandmother, and he finds her standing at the far wall, talking to Harry, whom Teddy hadn't seen arrive.

"Hullo," a drawling voice sounds from behind him, and Teddy turns to smile at Draco, who sits in his mum's abandoned seat. Draco is wearing a black jumper and pair of wool trousers, and he manages, as always, to look both immaculate and careless—something Teddy, with his inherited clumsiness, can never hope to emulate.

"I see my mother is going hard on the decorations this year," Draco observes, glancing around the room. There are small glowing pumpkins scattered about, and burning incense gives the air a gauzy, spicy viscosity, despite the chill.

Teddy smiles, his chest relaxing as he takes in the surroundings, the tradition of it all, his people. He feels the magic—he isn't sure what magic, the magic of gathering, the magic of family, the magic of the festival, or maybe someone has cast a spell—ease his stress, erase his worries about work. Celebrating ancestors, the darkness, remembering the dead. Pumpkins, Halloween, fire flood his consciousness, replacing worries about Rufus, his daft colleague who is working on potions and their relation to the multiverse. But that reminds him…

"Draco!" he says, turning with an expectant smile.

Draco raises an eyebrow, amused at Teddy's sudden enthusiasm. "Teddy."

Teddy takes a moment to consider his wording. "What do you know about the theories of potions that deal with multiple possible courses of action, like Felix Felicis?"

Draco's face settles into professional comportment. "The potion identifies the luckiest course of action for the person who takes it, no matter how many decisions need to be made in order to follow that course. This suggests, therefore, that though these divergent courses of action are essentially infinite, the magic of the potion is able to compare between these infinite courses of action to determine which is luckiest, at least within the timeframe of the potion."

"Right," Teddy says, waiting for him to continue, and Remus leans onto his elbows to get a better look at Draco.

"If we consider _how_ that magic operates, we quickly come to the possibility that all of these universes, made up of different possibilities, exist in a way that is knowable to the magic of the potion. Potioneers disagree, of course, and it's really outside the scope of the discipline of potions, but I would guess that more than half of potioneers believe that the fact that Felix Felicis works is proof of the existence of the multiverse."

"But wouldn't there then be an ever-increasing number of universes, if every moment in every universe is constantly diverging as each actor in the universe behaves differently?" Teddy asks, not understanding how this could possibly work, no matter how often he's read the different theories. His father's mouth curls into a proud smile as he watches the conversation.

"The most common theory holds that not every action or decision holds enough cosmic weight to differentiate a parallel universe," Draco answers. "Because minor differences will end up converging again. Some researchers call those decisions that do branch into parallel universes 'crisis points'."

"They use the same theory and terminology for time travel, don't they?" Remus adds. "About travel to the past changing the course of the known universe?"

"That's right," Teddy confirms. "But if potion magic can take into account parallel universes…" His voice stops. His mouth forms the words _then potions and other magic can access and maybe affect universes other than our own,_ but no sound comes out. Fucking Arcanum Vow, just when they were getting somewhere. Teddy is of the opinion that this whole "unspeaking" culture really slows down his rate of learning.

Draco grins. "Say Teddy, are you maybe doing work on the multiverse?"

"I couldn't say," Teddy answers with a sigh, and Remus and Draco laugh.

"Well," Remus soothes, "you could ask Harry about his experience going back in time to save Sirius. I always wonder…"

Teddy grimaces. He knows none of them will ask Harry about anything to do with Sirius, even if they are supposed to be honouring the dead. Surely many stones have already been cast into the fire for Sirius, but _talking_ about him, about meddling with the past, about how things could've gone differently, is not advisable. Even after this much time.

The fire flickers in an odd way, casting strange shadows on their feet. Draco drawls, "Perhaps Sirius is here now. He answered my mother's summons and intends to prank us throughout our supper."

Teddy laughs, allowing the feeling of the wine in his belly and the companionship of these men to warm him, a tingly feeling of happiness settling over his limbs. His father doesn't laugh, though, a slightly haunted look on his lined face as he stares at the fire. Teddy pats his knee. "To Sirius," he says, raising his glass.

Remus smiles. "Hear, hear."

As their glasses clink, Harry strides across the room with a wide smile on his face. His black shirt is covered with a glimmering array of spiderwebs that are only discernible up close. He wears black boots and a pair of jeans, and Teddy wonders whether Harry had tried to convince Draco to let him wear the jack-o-lantern jumper again. "Happy Halloween! What are we toasting?"

Remus gives Harry a sad smile. "To a blessed Samhain."

"Cheers," Harry says, reaching to clink Remus's glass. "The wine is good this year. Remember the year she put a load of fennel in it?"

Draco shudders. "We do not speak of that."

"Draco," Harry says, holding out a hand. "We have a date with Voldemort."

An odd smile curls onto Draco's face. "Indeed we do." He allows Harry to pull him to his feet, and the two of them walk to the fire.

Teddy sips his wine, watching as Harry picks a stone and he and Draco lean their heads together, whispering and casting spells at the rock, their faces twisting into a strange mixture of anger, sadness, glee, and resignation. He notices that Draco's right hand grips Harry's left tightly as they work on the stone, as they remember the unthinkable.

Well, to Teddy it is unthinkable. He supposes that Harry and Draco can think it quite well.

"Why do they always do this?" Teddy asks, shifting on the sofa uncomfortably.

Remus puts an arm around his shoulders and squeezes. "We remember the dead. It's as important to remember the bad as it is to remember the good. Perhaps more important, eh?"

Across the hall, Draco takes the stone out of Harry's hand and tosses it into the fire, which flashes purple again, just as it did for all the rest of the spelled stones as they went into the flames. Teddy supposes that Voldemort would've hated that, and wishes for a moment that he believed in the coming of the departed souls like his Aunt Narcissa does, wishes he believed that Voldemort's soul can see Harry and Draco standing there, happy and alive, and his memory causing the same purple flare of remembrance that went up for Teddy's mum's Muggleborn father.

Harry turns away from the fire and wraps his arms around Draco's waist; Teddy looks away from their embrace. It is too private, somehow; he is an intruder. He often feels that way, that he is an interloper on all of their pain and memories. He is the one who was born as it ended, who symbolises to them the next generation, the generation after Him. It is odd, to feel perfect camaraderie with these people one moment, and then to feel like an outsider, a symbol, the next. He supposes it is like this for everyone who came of age after the war, especially for those who are the only one, the youngest in the room—everyone's shining hope for the future.

Teddy feels hot, suddenly, and stands. "I'm going to go find Mum."

"Alright," his father says, standing with a soft exhalation and walking towards Harry and Draco.

Teddy smiles. He's glad that his dad is going to offer them some comfort or commiseration, or whatever it is he offers them. Harry and Draco are (just) old enough that they could be Teddy's fathers, and sometimes they act like it, but other times they are more like older brothers, sharing his father. Teddy is happy to share.

He finds his mum talking with his grandmother by the mantel, which is covered in skulls. Teddy wonders idly if the skulls are permanent or seasonal.

Andromeda stops talking and smiles at Teddy.

"Grandma!" he says, and she wraps him in a hug. She feels small against him, and somehow he still isn't used to that, though he's been this height for about a decade.

Over Andromeda's shoulder, his mum sticks out her tongue. Teddy grins and sticks his out back.

Andromeda pulls away, holding his shoulders and scrutinising him. "How's everything? Is Nettles treating you okay?"

Teddy opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. "I don't know this person of whom you speak," he says with a grin.

Andromeda tuts. "Well, your silly vow can't stop _me_ from talking and I know that man is your boss. You look tired."

Teddy shrugs a shoulder, taking another sip of his wine. "I've been working a lot. Interesting new project."

"You can sleep when you're old," his mum says. "What concerns me is that you never seem to be going out with friends. You never look green at Sunday breakfast. What self-respecting twenty-eight-year-old doesn't look green on Sunday morning now and again?" She grins.

Teddy gives her an exasperated look. He does go out with friends! He _just_ saw his old Hufflepuff friend Clive Warrington and his wife Esme. Well actually, that had been in August, hadn’t it?

"And you never date," Andromeda says, and though her tone is light, her meaning feels heavy. “Don’t you want children?”

Teddy sighs, but he can feel his lips quirking up with amusement. "I am having fun, and I do date. When I want to. I haven’t wanted to, lately."

A newspaper rattling behind them to the right indicates Lucius's presence. He is on a divan, face hidden behind a large newspaper. The only bits of him showing are his legs, the top of his snow-white hair, and a hand holding a smoking tumbler of firewhiskey.

When Teddy was young and Narcissa had begun to celebrate these old magic traditions, Lucius had put up a fight. He didn't approve of any traditions, no matter how old, that one was not raised with. And as he was not raised celebrating Samhain, he did not see why any other person would be interested in celebrating it especially his wife, whose late adoption of the practice made Lucius anxious that she was growing radical. Though the conflict between Lucius and Narcissa wages on with the surety of a rushing river, it is no longer voiced. For decades, it has been conducted with the age-old tactics of emotional manipulation and passive aggression.

Lucius's rustling newspaper lowers; he is over seventy, and Teddy likes to speculate with Harry about whether he's had any Charms or Medical Transfiguration. The absence of wrinkles is so conspicuous that it somehow makes him look older than wrinkles would've.

"It seems to me, young Mr Lupin," Lucius drawls, swirling the amber liquid in his tumbler, "that you ought to have an easy time finding someone to court. Seeing as your…" he trails off, takes a sip of whiskey, "…sexual proclivities double your chances of finding a…suitor."

Teddy sucks in a breath, willing himself not to get angry. He can feel his mother stiffen beside him—the last thing they need is his mum screaming at Lucius. If she did, experience shows, Lucius would look on, the picture of calm rightness, until she finished yelling, and then say, "Well, now you're being hysterical."

It is a funny thing, gatherings like these. They can make him feel a sense of belonging, safety, and warmth that he could never find elsewhere, but they are also inevitably the same gatherings that bring him the most anger and exasperation.

Luckily for them all, Andromeda responds first. "Pray tell, Lucius, when exactly you became an expert in courtship? I was under the impression that your marriage to Narcissa was arranged by your parents, and I know you were not involved in your son's choice of partner." She looks pointedly across the room to where Harry is laughing raucously, hair mussed, with Remus and Draco.

Lucius, in what Teddy thinks is a surprising show of self-control, does not answer. He merely disappears again behind his newspaper.

"What an arse clown," his mum hisses, and Teddy snorts.

Andromeda's face creases with disapproval at the language, but her reproach loses its force when she lets out a quiet sigh and gives them a sympathetic look. "I, for one, am proud that Teddy and Dora are bisexual," she announces, turning her head to let her voice carry behind her.

The newspaper doesn't even rustle.

"Grandma," Teddy says, wincing slightly. "Is it really something to be proud of me for?"

"Of course it is," she says with a wink. "I am always proud of you two knowing exactly what you want in life. A task that is, I think, even harder for metamorphmagi. So yes, I'm proud that you're bisexual." She leans forward, kisses his cheek, and walks off in search of a drink.

His mum smiles. "She does her best, you know. You should've seen the bookshelves when I was growing up: I think she owned every book on metamorphmagi and parenting queer children. I think we baffle her, a bit, though." She turns her hair orange, and Teddy laughs.

"She does get a bit…psychobabbly about it, doesn't she?" he asks, watching as, across the room, Andromeda talks with Harry.

Tonks starts walking towards the others, and Teddy follows. "Yeah," she says, "but you know, she couldn't experience it herself, so she had to like…make it theoretical."

Teddy is lucky he has a mum who understands, who has been through it all. He smiles, feeling warm, and looks at her more closely. Today she has some kind of rune tattoo running down her left arm, her hair is longer than it had been last week. Her eyes are blue, which she seems to favour for large gatherings. She is her natural height (Teddy learned at a very young age that if she morphed herself taller, she was really trying to make a point about something, or felt ignored). Her hair is black as pitch, except for her greys—she’d decided in her forties that she needed to figure out a way to keep her grey while still changing hair colour, as a show of solidarity to ageing witches everywhere while also staying authentic. She eventually figured out how to morph only her brown hairs to a colour, leaving the grey to sprinkle white sparkles throughout whatever hair colour she’s chosen at the moment.

Teddy doesn't change his appearance as much as she does. Sure, he messes with his hair colour—the colours seem more _Teddy_ than his default light brown, anyway. His hair tonight is the bright turquoise that it always settles into when he’s happy and comfortable and not putting effort into keeping it a different colour. He changes the length of his hair sometimes, too, and he's been known to change his body a bit when trying to impress someone—not that he finds himself in that position very often. But for the most part, he is happy to be just Teddy. He wonders if that comfort is something he owes to his mum, for the way she'd helped him develop a sense of normality and security about his ever-changeable identity. If it wasn't for her, he'd long thought, he would've had more of an issue about accepting his bisexuality—he would've worried that he was confused, thinking he could change his desires at will like he could change his body.

He reaches out and pokes her shoulder.

She turns, grins, and pokes him back.

"Don't let them pressure you, you know," Tonks says, looking up at him out of the corner of her eyes. "About finding a partner or having a baby. I only want you to have fun, you know that. It's not your fault that all the family lines have ended in death and childlessness. Let them pester Harry and Draco to have a baby; they're not too old."

Teddy laughs. "I know. Don't worry about me."

She turns to look at him fully and smiles. "I never do."

But she should have kept her eyes on her feet—she trips over one of the black rugs Narcissa has put down for the occasion and goes toppling forward. Remus, across the room, springs into action, casting _Impedimenta_ and freezing her before she slams into the floor. She hangs, body perhaps thirty degrees from the floor, and begins to laugh hysterically.

Once she begins laughing, everyone else joins in.

"Now the party's started," Draco observes, holding up his glass in a mock toast.

Teddy kneels down, grabs her arm, and hoists her up.

"Fucker," Tonks murmurs at the rug, and Teddy snorts.

At some point, Narcissa refills his glass, and Teddy is properly tipsy as he sits down to supper next to Harry. Feeling jovial, he asks Harry for news about Victoire, as he hasn't had an owl or text from her in ages. Harry, once invited to talk about the Weasleys, is good for at least thirty minutes of updates, and Teddy listens with the vague interest reserved for stories of distant relatives and laughs at Harry's exuberant story-telling. Draco adds to the overall atmosphere by sticking his head behind Harry to contradict him with hyperbolic whispers (when Harry says that Victoire's daughter is a perfect baby, Draco mouths, "She vomited on my sofa" with a haunted look).

Narcissa interrupts the chatter with words about the changing of the seasons, the thin veil, the duty of remembering the dead. Teddy half-listens, glancing with unease at the empty chair at the head of the table. He leans over slightly and whispers to Harry, "Think any souls are in the empty chair?"

Harry nods solemnly and sips his wine. "Definitely. Snape's soul is sitting on Dumbledore's soul's lap."

Teddy snickers, earning an "ahem" from Narcissa, which he meets with a contrite frown.

"To family," Narcissa says, raising her glass, "both present and departed."

***

An hour and a half later, Teddy stumbles through the Floo of his flat, trips on the hearth, and with a mumbled "Fuck," falls flat on his face. He starts to laugh, immediately feeling like an idiot for doing so, since there is no one there to laugh with him. He isn't sure if he should blame the alcohol or his daft metamorphmagus body that is never sure of its own boundaries. Probably both.

His mind swirls with thoughts of purple fire and images of Narcissa in a pointed black hat, snippets of Draco's observations on potions and the multiverse, Remus’s arm around Teddy’s shoulder, and Tonks tripping on the rug. Teddy sighs, pushing to his feet. Normally he does some exercise upon getting home from work, but it is too late and he is too boozy.

He grabs his bag from the hook near the fireplace and flops onto the sofa, pulling out his sheets of research notes and his laptop. As he starts reading his notes, he points his wand in the general direction of the kitchen and mumbles " _Accio_ glass," never taking his eyes from the paper as a glass smacks into his hand. He casts an _Aguamenti_ and chugs it down, not wanting to deal with a hangover tomorrow.

Crisis points, Draco had said, that demarcate distinct, coexisting universes. Multiple possible courses of future action that are knowable through magic.

This is roughly what Teddy has discovered so far, but if Draco is right that Felix Felicis taps into alternate universes in order to determine the best course of action for the drinker, then Nettles must be right about this project—there must be other types of magic that can access other universes.

The problem, of course, is that even if they could succeed in sending magic to a different universe, they wouldn't have any way of knowing whether it worked. If Teddy could figure out how to send a Patronus to a parallel universe, he'd never know if it met its mark. They would be like Muggles sending radio signals into outer space so that potential life forms could detect them, even if humans would never know whether the signals had been intercepted or not.

Teddy sighs, flipping through case files. Nettles and Teddy’s supervisor, Farzad Tajik, head of Magi-Cosmos, had asked Teddy to look into mysterious appearances and disappearances, on the assumption that at least some of these unexplained events could be the result of people travelling between universes. Earlier that day, Teddy performed a search in the Unspeakable archives and pulled a bunch of case files. Some of them he’d immediately realised were irrelevant and reshelved, but the others he has with him now.

There is Lawrence Barstaple, who according to his family had become obsessed with the idea of a universe in which his lover had not died in the Spattergroit Epidemic of 1745. Barstaple had lost interest in anything but grimoires and theories of otherworlds, making scores of notes about spells and potions. And then, on 1st May 1752, Barstaple disappeared.

And there is Agnes Malyns, who had appeared in Shropshire on 1st November 1848, stumbling into a pub and babbling about having come from an otherworld. The locals assumed she'd been cursed to insanity, and after they failed to spell her free of evil influences, she was sent to St Mungo's, where she stayed until her death.

And ten years ago, in 2016, an Unspeakable named Bev Hancock had vanished. Hancock disappeared while working on a project about time, attempting to figure out how to prevent laywizards from fashioning homemade Time-Turners. The Unspeakables led a search for Hancock, but when they found no evidence of Bev when they used magical signature geolocation, they eventually gave up. Hancock's case file ends with the words, "No evidence of foul play, accident, or death; no leads."

Bev’s face blinks up at Teddy from the photo on the file. It’s a standard Ministry employment photo, but it reads MISSING across the top.

_Bev Hancock. Date of birth: 14 June 1987. Last seen: 31 October 2016, age 29, London, Department of Mysteries. Details: Absence noted on Tuesday 1 November 2016. Attempt to reach by Owl and Floo on Thursday 3 November. Attempt to contact next of kin on Friday 4 November. Official investigation began Monday 7 November._

_Coworkers revealed that Bev was highly intelligent and curious and often became fixated on research ideas. Loved Quidditch and supported the Montrose Magpies. Changed pronouns to ‘they/them’ on Ministry record in 2014; was annoyed with isolated cases of misgendering. Bev’s parents died in 2010, and Bev was not in contact with any other extended family members. Closest friends and coworkers had no idea where they could’ve gone; hadn’t said anything suspicious or mentioned travel or new people or any appointments or anything out of the ordinary._  
  
Teddy reads the entire file through twice, then taps his fingers. He wants to know what this curious researcher who was prone to fixation was researching when they disappeared. He reaches into his bag, pulling out a Shrunken box that he'd checked out from the Department of Mysteries Storage Desk—the contents of Bev Hancock's desk upon their disappearance.

Teddy Unshrinks the box and removes the lid. There is a hippogriff-shaped note dispenser, a mismatched handful of quills and pens, a box of tea bags. Teddy pushes those aside, pulling out a prescription potion bottle. _Avicissitudinem. Prepared for Bev Hancock, drink one ounce twice per day. Do not combine with hemlock._

 __Teddy scrunches his nose. He knows this potion—it is often prescribed to metamorphmagi who can't control their changes. He has never needed it, and some part of him recoils at the idea of suppressing his ability. It feels too much like hiding. Teddy unscrews the cap and sniffs. The golden liquid smells like liquorice and parsnips.

He sighs, wishing Draco were here, and Summons his NEWT Potions book from the shelf. The book crashes into his lap with a loud thunk; he'd been careless with his aim. He points his wand at the book and mutters, "Avicissitudinem."

The pages flip by in a storm, coming to an abrupt stop, and Teddy reads.

_Avicissitudinem. A stability potion, with therapeutic use to prevent change and turns both physical and abstract. Will not work to prevent creature transformations (c.f. Wolfsbane), but will prevent an Animagus from becoming their animal instantiation. Prescribed to metamorphmagi to temper metamorphic flux, as well as to other witches and wizards suffering from change disorders. Variable result on hormonal changes (c.f. Amenorrhum, Amenopausium, Agonadotropum). Contains: anise, fennel, peppermint, ashwinder egg. Interacts with and should not be taken concurrently with: hemlock, lovage. Counterindications: non-robust health._

__"The fuck?" Teddy mumbles, shoving the book off his lap and into his bag with a scowl. He hates Potions. Sure, he'd passed the course. But that was with a lot of guidance from Draco, who happens to be one of Britain's most respected potioneers, and, Teddy'd always suspected, a healthy dose of favouritism from Professor Blimpy, who had known Teddy, the DADA professor's kid, from a young age.

Had Bev Hancock been a metamorphmagus? Teddy rubs a hand over his face. There were no notes about that in Bev's case file, employment records, or medical file. _Metamorphic flux._ Teddy hates reading about metamorphmagi. The jargon of it always makes him feel inhuman, like he is a condition rather than a person. He tries to push away his annoyance, knowing that he is probably unfairly sensitive, given the number of "conditions" in his nuclear family.

Teddy picks up the case file on Lawrence Barstaple, and he just manages to seal the potion bottle before it falls off his lap. He isn't the tidiest researcher, but he manages to balance the bottle on his knee as he scans a page of Barstaple's notes that the Aurors had collected after his disappearance.

They are, Teddy thinks, incomprehensible. Figures and shorthand and arrows and question marks everywhere. Barstaple seems to have taken notes in the same manner Teddy does, which isn't lucky for Teddy. In the middle of one untidy page, a spell is written, circled three times.

_Velum mundorum transvenire._

__Teddy, processing a quick Latin translation, realises he hasn't heard of any spells like this before. It seems like this spell was Barstaple's attempt to spell himself across universes.

Looking at these notes, Teddy thinks it is no wonder Barstaple had been thought insane by his contemporaries—Teddy wouldn’t want his character or intelligence judged on the basis of one of his note pages, which are always a mess of unorganised, rough thoughts and rambles.

Teddy absently Shrinks the box of Hancock's personal effects and shoves it back in his bag, reading Barstaple's notes over and over. Velum probably means "veil", but this isn't supposed to be about death, is it? The veil is the boundary between this world and the afterlife.

Fuck, he is going to have to ask someone in Death about this. Most of the people who work in Magi-Cosmos and Time Travel hate everyone who works in Death. Nettles seems to think that the rivalry is good for morale, but Teddy, though he loves the workplace banter (and it’s so easy to take the piss out of people who work in Death), isn’t sure it’s helpful when they need to work together on cases.

While pondering this, Teddy bends his knee to put his foot up on the sofa, accidentally slamming the potion bottle into the wooden side table; the bottle shatters.

"Bugger," Teddy mumbles as the smell of anise fills his nostrils and wetness seeps through his trousers and onto his leg. He reaches for his wand, which is tucked under the strap of his bag, and casts a cleaning charm absently at his leg, eyes travelling back to Barstaple's notes.

"What the fuck, Barstaple?" Teddy murmurs, reading the incomprehensible notes again. "Otherworlds accessible temporary timing _Velum mundorum transvenire,"_ and the world goes black.

Teddy's body freezes, and he feels an immediate rush of adrenaline and fear. His body presses in on all sides, much like Apparition, only the pressure feels like it is forcing him out rather than sucking him in; he feels his stomach lurch but does he even have a stomach? What the actual buggering fuck—

He kneels, finding himself in cool grass, and vomits. Narcissa's Samhain wine sears his sinuses with acid and he splutters, looking up, wondering what the fuck has just happened. Has he accidentally Apparated? Touched a secret Portkey? Maybe one of the items in the evidence had been a Portkey? But—

He stands, takes in his surroundings. He is in what looks to be an out-of-the-way corner of a garden. Light and music and shrieking children and loud talking echo from around the side of a house. He doesn't know the house at all.

"Alright Lupin, pull it together," he whispers, looking down and retrieving his wand and bag, which he'd dropped when he began to vomit. He stuffs the notes he'd been holding into the bag. He'll just Apparate home. He visualises his flat, turns, but goes nowhere.

That is odd; Apparating has been second nature for Teddy for over ten years. Is something wrong with his magic? He casts _Lumos:_ light. He tries Apparating again: nothing. He tries Apparating a few feet away, to a holly bush twinkling with magicked candles, and when he opens his eyes, he is next to the holly bush. Nothing wrong with his magic, then, except that he can't Apparate _home_.

He supposes he will need to follow the voices he hears and ask someone for the use of their Floo. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, noticing when he pushes the locks away that his hair is red, a sure sign of fear. He concentrates his magic, turning his hair to his natural brown. At least he is fully dressed, having not changed out of his clothes upon arriving home. The last thing he needs is to approach a group of strangers in his boxers.

He wonders who lives here; they are so bloody loud. He walks towards the noise and light, entering a cosy, if chaotic, garden decorated for Halloween—messily carved jack-o-lanterns everywhere, a dancing skeleton, glowing skulls. In the centre of it all roars a huge bonfire.

A couple of little kids run by in costume, shrieking. One of them is dressed as a ghoul; the other, a dragon. Teddy smiles as they disappear behind the other side of the house.

The adults are on the other side of the garden; Teddy can just make out their figures. He starts walking in that direction, trying to pick out some identifying characteristics in case he knows any of these people.

"Teddy?!" a loud, incredulous voice shouts, making Teddy jump in shock. "What the actual fuck are you doing here?!"

Teddy turns to find a good-looking bloke he's never seen before. The man looks to be a few years younger than him, and Teddy frantically runs through people who had been in the years below him at Hogwarts, trying to figure out who he can be. He looks vaguely familiar, something about his eyes and the shape of his cheeks?

"I thought you were still in Australia!" the man continues, apparently unfazed by Teddy's silence. "You just had to surprise us, did you?" He bounds forward, wrapping Teddy in a firm hug, which makes Teddy freeze with confusion. "I fucking missed you," the man says in his ear.

"I—" Teddy starts, tempted to pretend that he knows the man, but deciding at the last second to be honest. "Er, who are you?"

Inexplicably, the man pulls back and begins to laugh. "Very funny. It _has_ been a long time. Dad's going to go ballistic when he sees you, come on."

Teddy allows himself to be pulled across the garden towards the hubbub. "Dad!" the bloke grasping his wrist hollers.

The air leaves Teddy's lungs in a whoosh as a man turns around, shouting, "What is it, Jamie?"—and it is Harry.

It is Harry Potter. Teddy is looking at Harry, who just responded to the call of "Dad." It is Harry Potter in a stranger's garden, and it all becomes suddenly, terrifyingly clear. _Velum mundorum transvenire._

 __Teddy turns with horror to gape at the man holding his arm—Harry's _son_?

"Dad, look who the kneazle dragged in!"

Harry's eyes flicker to Teddy and his face drops in surprise. "Teddy!" A moment later, Teddy is wrapped in the warm, familiar embrace of his godfather—only it isn't his godfather at all, is it?

"I've missed you so much, stranger!" Harry says, patting Teddy repeatedly on the back. "You are tall, aren't you? Abandoning us to move to Australia and you never Floo, and then you just show up with no warning?!"

Teddy squeezes back. What the fuck is he supposed to do? He needs to try the spell again and see if it can get him back home, but he can't try it in the middle of this party. He wants to tell Harry the truth—Harry always knows what to do—but Teddy knows that saying he just arrived from a parallel universe would go about as well for him as it did for old Agnes Malyns. "I—I wanted to surprise you."

"It worked!" Harry laughs. "Gin, look who's here!"

Ginny Weasley turns and smiles widely when she sees Teddy. "Teddy! Holy fuck! Were we expecting you?!" She jogs over and wraps Teddy in a hug.

Teddy tries to remember what he knows about Ginny Weasley. She coaches a Quidditch team, is married to…someone whose name he is forgetting. She has twin boys, he thinks. He hasn't seen her in years, maybe at a wedding at some point?

"You couldn't stay away from the famous Potter family Halloween party," she says, grinning, and Harry laughs, putting an arm around her waist and drawing her close.

Teddy chokes. On what, he isn't sure, but he starts coughing loudly, leaning forward and grabbing his stomach.

The man next to him—Harry's _son_ —slaps him on the back. "Alright, Ted-o?"

He really isn't. "Yeah," he gasps, managing to stop spluttering.

"Well, come on," Harry’s son says, "you almost missed the squash decorating contest. Can't be late, I think there's only one butternut squash and I intend to take advantage of its phallic shape."

"The…squash decorating contest?" Teddy asks.

"James!" Harry yells, and the man turns. "Don't hog Teddy!"

James. Harry named his son James. Teddy's chest clenches; he watched Harry say a memorial for James Potter just a couple of hours before. In Malfoy Manor. And now he's….he's with Ginny, and has a son with his father's name. Fuck.

James rolls his eyes, walking so quickly towards a table covered in squash that Teddy has to jog to keep up. James grabs the butternut triumphantly, giving Teddy an over-the-top wink and holding the squash suggestively in front of his hips.

Teddy snorts, momentarily distracted from this utter cockup of a situation by the immature humour. He’s not used to interactions like this, and he realises how bizarre this place is. Actually bizarre, like Bizarro in the comics he used to read with his mum. He has no idea what anything is here. He needs to get his bearings. "Is that really appropriate for a man of…how old are you now?" He says it like a joke, or he tries to, anyway.

But James only grins and gives him the finger. "Twenty-two. And who wants to act appropriate? That would be very un-Weasley. That's how you end up old." He gestures at someone, and Teddy turns to see Ron Weasley wearing a helmet that looks to be poorly Transfigured from something, holding his wand aloft as a lightsaber and duelling with one of his brothers. Ginny stands on the sidelines making zapping noises whenever the beams touch, and Arthur Weasley sits in a chair on the sidelines announcing loudly every minute or so, "Luke, I am your father!"

James shoves an acorn squash at Teddy's chest, and he grabs it without thinking.

Fuck, but it is too loud; everyone is screaming. Teddy wonders if he’s experiencing a side effect from his inter-universal jump or if these people are really that loud.

"I'm just going to—" Teddy begins, but has no idea how to finish his thought. "I'm going to go get some water."

"Sure," James says, not looking up from his squash. "I'll save your gourd."

Teddy stands mute for a moment, wondering if that is some sort of a euphemism, before he realises he is meant to hand over the squash. He does, and leaves, heading back around the side of the house to where he had arrived, hoping for relative quiet and an opportunity to try the spell.

But when he rounds the corner, he finds the wall occupied by a dark-haired lad smoking a cigarette. His shoulders hunch as he leans against the wall, and he turns, noticing Teddy, and his eyes light up.

"Ah shit," he says with a wry grin. "The prodigal godson returns. That means I will become the primary focus of the parents' worry, at least until you leave again."

"Er, sorry?" Teddy ventures.

"At least they have plenty of practice worrying about me," he says, blowing out a cloud of smoke and smiling. "Albus Severus Potter," he mimics, "be nicer to your father. Think positively. Be happy."

Albus. His hair is dark like Harry's, but it is styled in a trendy, curly undercut, the curls making a pile to one side of his face. He is good looking like his brother, but in a more haunted way, and Teddy feels crushed by the realisation that in this place, _these_ are his people. These men are his family, and they clearly look up to _him._ He's used to looking up to others.

"The noise and chaos too much for you, too?" Teddy asks, leaning on the wall next to him.

"Yeah, you know how it always is. Dad will be round soon asking why I'm being 'anti-social'."

Teddy huffs a laugh, letting his eyes close for a moment. He knows that parent-child dance. His mind flashes with images of Draco needing a break whenever Lucius starts monologuing. When Teddy was little, Draco would bring him outside as an excuse to get away, only to be found by Narcissa and dragged back inside "to his guests" by the rebuke in her eyes.

He realises he is still carrying his work bag, which is ridiculous, but he doesn't know where to put it.

Away from the noise and people, in surprisingly comfortable silence with this man named Albus, Teddy is able to start thinking about the situation.

It is a _disaster._

 __Teddy is a _theoretical_ Unspeakable; he doesn't do applied missions. He does desk work and research. And even if he were an applied Unspeakable, he is completely unbriefed on this universe. Nettles would never send someone to another universe without intensive preparation.

He can't tell anyone here who isn't an Unspeakable what had happened without risking imploding the multiverse. He _thinks_ that's only a remote possibility, but not one he can actually take, not when they haven't even conducted preliminary research. He needs to get to Level Nine, but he doesn't have any of the identifying documents the Unspeakables usually give to someone traveling through time, which they'd surely have given to someone attempting to jump fucking universes. He doesn't even know if this Teddy _is_ an Unspeakable.

"Are you alright?" Albus asks. "You seem overwhelmed. You want a cig?"

"No thanks," Teddy says. "Just—thinking. How much do you know about what I do? In Australia?"

Albus raises an eyebrow. "Er, you surf a lot? And work at that newspaper? And have a lot of sex with Brianna, I assume."

 _Brianna?!_ Bloody buggering fuck.

"Why?" Albus asks. "Have you been lying to us? Is that not really what you do? Are you a spy?!" Albus's face shines for a moment with excitement you'd expect to find on a small boy's face, but it quickly disappears as he laughs and takes another puff on his cigarette.

"Or do you think we stopped paying attention to you?" Albus ventures when Teddy doesn't elaborate. "Everyone still loves you, you know. You don't need to worry. Doesn't matter how long you've been gone, you know that."

The words echo in Teddy's brain and he finds it a bit hard to breathe, but he tries to arrange his face in a reassuring smile.

"You sure you're alright, mate?" Albus asks, but he's interrupted by the arrival of a blond man running in at top speed and wrapping Albus in a hug.

"Cold," the blond head says, face obscured, and Albus's face changes into an adoring smile as he reaches to wrap his arm around the man's back.

"Did you see who's here?" Albus asks.

The man turns his head to the side and opens his eyes. "Teddy!"

Teddy does a double-take. It is _Draco's face._ It is _Draco_ but about twenty-five years younger. And—carefree. "You—you're—Draco Malfoy's son!" Then Teddy immediately blanches, realising he said exactly the wrong thing for an undercover Unspeakable.

But the man laughs a groan. "You are like the fourth person to tell me tonight how much I look like my dad."

"You don't look like him," Albus says, poking him in the side, and it hits Teddy like a punch to the gut.

His jaw drops. "You two are—you're—you are—lovers!"

Albus raises an eyebrow and Draco's son's face creases in amused confusion.

"Er, yeah, Ted," Albus replies, deadpan. "Is it a bit of a shock to see in person, or something?” He pauses, then narrows his eyes. “You’re not homophobic, are you? I thought you were bi!"

“What?!” Teddy gasps, horrified that his gaffe could be taken for _that._ “No! I mean, yes, I am bi, no, I’m not homophobic. I just—somehow you both, er, look older. Like your dads, kinda, and it’s all a bit—” Teddy waves his hand indistinctly. He has no idea how to save this, how to make it seem like he knew. And here’s Albus, who looks so like Harry, only if Harry were young and had good vision and no scar and more introverted body language, and Scorpius, who looks so like Draco, only young and sparkling with unjaded enthusiasm.

Teddy bursts out laughing, a chuckle at first that quickly progresses to full belly laughter. It is too much. He has to tell Harry and Draco—he's accidentally travelled to a parallel universe where their sons are shagging, but _they_ are not.

And Draco had named his son _Scorpius._

 __"What's funny?" Scorpius asks, looking genuine.

"Nothing," Teddy breathes, trying to stop laughing. "It's just—must be Portkey-lag."

They nod in commiseration. "Is Brianna here?" Scorpius asks.

"Er," Teddy says, no idea who Brianna is beyond that he is apparently fucking her a lot, "she couldn't make it."

"So you show up here, out of the blue, without your wife, acting all weird?" Albus asks, narrowing his eyes. "And you claim nothing's wrong. Whatever. But, when you want to talk about it, you'll tell us, right?"

His _wife_?! He's married?! His heart rate speeds alarmingly, but he manages to choke out a, "Course."

A Sonorused voice announces it is time for the squash decorating contest, and Albus and Scorpius (who _should not exist!_ Teddy's brain keeps helpfully screaming) lead him back into the fray before he can attempt Barstaple's universe-jumping spell.

The squash decorating contest is not as lewd as James had made Teddy fear—it is only James's squash that ends up decorated as genitals. The bobbing for apples is, likewise, uneventful, though Teddy ends up soaked because he doesn't realise he's allowed to use Waterproofing Charms. Harry hits him with drying and warming charms before Teddy can even pull his wand, though, and then pulls Teddy away from the games to a bench.

"So," Harry says, smiling, but clearly waiting for Teddy to talk.

Teddy shrugs and gives him a small smile. "So."

"Why the hell are you here?! Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, of course. You're always welcome here, no matter what."

Teddy leans back, looking up at the night sky, watching the smoke from the bonfire swirling into the air. He needs to stop approaching this like a person and start approaching it like an Unspeakable. He needs to figure out what crisis point (or points, he thinks with a groan) distinguish this universe from his own. "How…did you and Ginny get together?" he asks eventually.

He feels a strong hand on his knee and turns to see Harry's face twisting with sympathy. "Is something wrong with you and Brianna?"

"No!" Teddy says, imagining the multiverse imploding because he asked the wrong questions about his godfather's marriage. "Just—you know how it is."

"Yeah," Harry says with a gusty sigh. "Well, Ginny and I got together in school, but then broke things off during the war. When the war was over, I went to stay at the Burrow and we picked up where we left off." Harry pauses, looking up at a soaring piece of burning ash. "Actually, picked things up quite a bit heavier than we'd left them off, to be honest." He flashes Teddy a grin, and Teddy can see the nostalgia in his eyes. This is so strange.

"And you're—happy with her?"

"Of course!" Harry says, laughing. "Look how ridiculous she is." He points across the lawn to where Ginny stands inverted in a handstand, walking on her hands around the bonfire, as her brothers cheer her on.

"But did you ever wonder if you were gay?" Teddy can't help but blurt.

Harry laughs, surprised. "Er, not really? I mean, not since before Ginny. Since then I've been with her, so…" He stops. "Is that what this is about? Are you having a sexuality crisis? I thought we did that years ago. Or do you have fomo?"

"Merlin, Harry. You are such a dad. No one says that anymore." Teddy's Harry would never say _fomo_. "And no, I'm cool. I was just wondering about you." Then he realises what is different about Harry's story. "Why did you go stay at the Burrow?"

"Hmm?" Harry asks, crossing one ankle over his knee. "I needed somewhere to go after Hogwarts. I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"But why didn't you stay with my parents?"

Harry's head whips around, his face visibly crumpling in pain. "Well, because they died in the final battle. It can be hard for you to remember the timeline, I suppose."

A cold chill starts at the base of Teddy's skull and spreads down his back. His throat constricts; he can't breathe. _They're fine, they're fine, they're fine, I just saw them! I'll get back!_ He forces a breath. Fuck.

"Would you have stayed with them, do you think?" Teddy rasps. "If they'd survived?"

Harry smiles sadly. "I would've liked that. I loved your parents. I was happy to go to the Burrow, but I did feel like an intruder at first, especially while they were grieving Fred."

Teddy nods. Was his parents' death the crisis point? Or had there been some other crisis point that diverged before that? Fuck.

"Your father," Harry begins, seems to falter, but then presses on. "Your father was one of the adults who supported me. He was kind, and patient, and funny. He was also unexpectedly Gryffindor. I once watched him lie to Snape's face while his Marauder's Map read insults to Snape. Your father didn't even blink." Harry laughs. "I loved him."

Teddy squeezes Harry's hand.

"Hey, it's Samhain. Remembering the dead, and all," Harry says. "To Remus."

"To Remus," Teddy echoes, feeling disembodied or something. "He loved you too, you know."

"I know," Harry sighs. "Not that _you_ actually know that," he adds, smiling.

Teddy laughs. He does, though. His father loves Harry like a second son, or a first son, rather. "I think he would've liked your humour. And your snarkiness. And your taste in whiskey."

Harry barks a laugh, patting Teddy on the back. "Except I don't drink whiskey."

"Right," Teddy says, wondering what happened to his Harry to turn him into a whiskey fan. Draco, probably. "I need to use the loo."

Harry nods and Teddy walks towards the house, forcing himself to walk at a normal pace when he wants to run. He opens the back door and ducks inside, glad no one is there to watch him get lost on his way to the loo in a house he's supposed to have been in hundreds of times. He finds the loo after trying a few wrong doors and quickly locks himself inside.

He looks in the mirror: nothing is different. He looks tired, but that is no surprise. It must be after midnight by now. He hoists his bag off his shoulder and thumps it on the counter, rummaging through until he finds Barstaple's notes that he'd been reading when it had happened.

He holds his wand aloft and closes his eyes. " _Velum mundorum transvenire._ "

He presses his eyes shut tight, not wanting to open them to confirm what the lack of pressure squeezing his body tells him. He opens his eyes, blinking at his reflection in the Potter family bathroom mirror.

"Shit. _Velum mundorum transvenire._ "

Nothing. His heart beats rapidly, and he takes a few steadying breaths before stuffing everything back into his bag and walking back out to Harry, feeling lost.

He sits next to Harry on the bench. "I don't have a place to stay," Teddy says, realising that, in this place, he has no one to turn to. He has no flat, his parents are dead, and his room in their house nonexistent. Harry and Draco don't live in Grimmauld and Teddy's bedroom there is probably occupied by a stranger. He can't exactly show up at his grandmother's house this late, if she is even alive, and even if he could, it wouldn't be smart—he doesn't know if his grandmother is close with his…wife. Would she contact Brianna? It could cause problems. It could affect the functioning of the multiverse.

"Don't be silly," Harry says, wrapping an arm around Teddy's shoulders. "You'll stay with us. Everyone's spending the night, anyway, even Albus and Scorpius. No drunk Apparition to Edinburgh on my watch. And James will be happy to have you around; since it’s the off-season he’s around the house a lot."

The off-season? Teddy is going to have to get used to having no idea what is going on.

He smiles in relief. "Thank you. That's great."

Harry smiles and stands. "You can sleep in Lily's room; with her at Hogwarts, it's the only empty room."

Teddy is going to have to have a word with Harry about his choice of names.

***

Teddy dreams he’s looking at a shirtless man's back in the middle of a sun-dappled, neon-green bedroom. He blinks, wondering what his subconscious is up to; feeling his cock harden as the shirtless man leans over, rifling through and slamming drawers and throwing items on the ground. His back is muscled and tanned, and his movements cause the muscles to shift under his skin. Teddy watches with sleepy, dream-hazed eyes and reaches down to palm his cock.

The man whirls around; Teddy freezes, his heart pounding suddenly. It's James. It isn't a dream.

"Teddy!" he says. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to wake you, but I cannot find where Lily hid my fucking socks. I know she must have stolen them."

Teddy doesn't move a muscle, wondering whether James has noticed that his hand is on his cock. Which he isn't to blame for—he'd thought it was a dream, for fuck's sake!

"Er," Teddy says, voice cracking from sleep. "Why would she take your socks?"

"Because she's a little sister. Also, the socks are really nice." He turns and pulls a giant stuffed snake out of a drawer, and keeps pulling more and more snake body out until he gets to the end and flings it over his shoulder. It lands on Teddy's head.

"I don't know how she fits so much crap in her drawers. I think she must've learned how to do Undetectable Extensions when she was like twelve. Look at this." He pulls out what Teddy is pretty sure is a Muggle microscope.

Teddy snorts, sitting up and dislodging the stuffed snake.

"This is my CD! Oh, she is in trouble." James flashes a plastic case at Teddy.

"Taylor Swift?" Teddy asks, laughing.

James stops his frantic movement, turning around and pointing the case at Teddy with an outstretched arm. "Don't make fun. T-Swizzle is amazing. Also, this is old." He puts his hand on his hip, scanning the room with his eyes until he finds a CD player, waves his wand to put the disc in, and Taylor Swift's voice fills the room at a truly astonishing volume. ("In the middle of the night, in my dreams, You should see the things we do, baby.")

James turns back around, leaning over to check a bottom drawer, and Teddy looks pointedly away. Surely it is wrong to be checking out Harry's son. Or maybe it is wrong to be checking out anyone in a parallel universe? He isn't sure, really, of the ethics, as he hasn't been briefed.

"Aha!" James shouts, holding up a pair of red wool socks. He sits down where he had been standing (Teddy admires the ease of his movement—James merely crosses his feet and lowers himself down without any hesitation or creaking or using his hands for support, and Teddy finds himself wondering at the beautiful way James's body moves—unlike Teddy's clumsy, ever-graceless metamorphmagus body) and pulls on the socks. James is wearing a pair of thick grey joggers, but no shirt, and his muscled stomach scrunches up in small rolls as he pulls on his socks.

Teddy swallows.

"It's fucking cold this morning," James says, "but that's better." He sticks one red-socked foot in the air to illustrate.

"If you're cold, put a shirt on."

James gives him a pitying look. "You know I only get cold on my lower half. I hate shirts. Shirts oppress me."

Teddy knows with sudden clarity that this stint in the parallel universe is going to be a true ordeal.

"Why should humans have to wear shirts, anyway? They're always too tight on the shoulders—"

For _you_ maybe, Teddy thinks wryly, looking down at his torso, which could only be described as 'scrawny imperfection.'

"—they always get dirty if you drop food, the buttons are a nightmare, don't even get me started on cuffs. And people who need to breastfeed! The poor babies can't even get to the nipples."

Teddy's mouth gapes in amusement at James's rant.

"And they _never_ fit right. Either the chest is too tight or the belly too wide, or they're too short, or the short sleeves are too tight or they are too wide, sticking out like fucking wings. You know what avoids all of this?" He looks at Teddy, waiting, apparently, for an answer.

"Er, toplessness?"

James grins. "Yes! Exactly. Plus when people are topless, you get to see their nipples." He winks.

Teddy can feel his eyes widening, his cheeks flushing, and though he suspects that the Teddy in this world is used to James's antics, he's powerless to stop it.

James just continues. "If I make pancakes, will you eat? And eggs. Need protein."

"Er, sure. Yeah. I'll be right down."

James starts to walk out of the room backwards. "Perfect. Wait, where's your bag? Your clothes and stuff?"

Teddy's throat constricts. "I somehow, er, forgot it."

James stops walking, his confident face flickering with worry. "What? You travelled halfway around the world and forgot your stuff?” He puts a hand on a hip. “What the fuck is going on?”

"Yeah!" Teddy says brightly, trying to play it off. "Not a big thing. I guess I'm just forgetful lately."

James opens his mouth to speak, then snaps it shut and turns. "You can get clothes from my room, or Albus's. I don't think you want to venture into dad's wardrobe unless you like wearing mum jeans."

The door closes behind James, and Teddy lets out a breath.

He wonders idly if he’s lost his mind, but his years-old Unspeakable training whispers in his brain, telling him to do what needs doing and worry about the psychological blowback once he’s through it. He remembers reading a training manual called _Fieldwork without Fantastical Floundering_ that said never to doubt your sanity on a mission. Even in cases where you’ve actually become insane, the Unspeakables determined, it was still beneficial to believe yourself lucid.

Teddy stands, glad that his erection faded in the face of James's suspicion and rant about the deficiencies of shirtsleeves, and looks down at himself. Should he put on the clothes he wore yesterday? They are too formal for everyday, especially everyday in this place where it is apparently okay to walk around shirtless, as he'd been dressed for the Manor. He doesn't want to put those stuffy clothes on, but he also doesn't want to wander around in his boxers, which is what he'd slept in, looking for clothes to borrow.

He decides to go with it, and steps out of Lily's green room and into the corridor, which is covered with framed photos of the family—Teddy checks, only the three children, thank Merlin, he won't be blindsided by more of them. There are three closed doors, and Teddy has no idea which room is James's.

He tries the next door, knocking quietly and pressing his ear to listen for sounds within. When he hears nothing, he opens the door. On the bed, Albus and Scorpius are in a deep sleep, wrapped around each other. Albus is wearing a faded Hellebore band t-shirt and a pair of boxers; Scorpius is wearing matching flannel. Albus's head rests on Scorpius's chest and his fingers are tangled in Scorpius's hair.

Teddy sucks in a breath. It is completely surreal. They are the picture of young love, but all Teddy can think is that they look like porn stars putting on a Harry/Draco role-play—the way they are _so like_ their fathers, but not quite.

He closes the door quietly and tries the next. This must be James's room. A red duvet crumples at the foot of the bed, the floor strewn with clothes, books, magazines, papers. A giant chalkboard hangs above a desk, and multilayered, erased scribbles—of…Quidditch plays?—cover it. On the desk, four books lie open, and upon closer inspection Teddy sees that they are books of Quidditch plays and strategies. Harry's words about James's "season" and the excessive muscles suddenly make sense.

Teddy opens the top drawer of the dresser, eyes widening and then a snort escaping as he takes in the lube, condoms, and…Teddy's not even sure what _that_ is. He tries the next drawer: t-shirts. Ever the Hufflepuff, he reaches for a black one with yellow writing, noting only after he's pulled it on that it's a souvenir from the Quidditch World Cup 2022. Teddy had been at that match with Harry, in another world. The drawer below opens to reveal jeans and tracksuit bottoms. Teddy picks up a pair of jeans and looks apprehensively at the size tag, thinking that he is unlikely to wear the same size trousers as a professional Quidditch player. But the tag says 32, which is roughly what Teddy wears, and he pulls them on to find that they are only slightly short, and fit alright, though his arse doesn't fill them out nearly as well as James's must.

He walks downstairs, no idea what awaits him in the kitchen. Well, that's not true—pancakes. And eggs, because protein. He sighs, thinking of all the times he's woken up in Harry and Draco's house, come down to breakfast to find one of Draco's batches of muffins on the kitchen table, a bewitched teapot bouncing merrily in the corner, waiting to pour him tea when he sits, while Harry and Draco bicker good-naturedly over the _Prophet_ crossword, laughing their arses off at each other's fanciful (incorrect) answers.

He follows his nose to the kitchen, and the first thing he notices is they're drinking coffee, not tea. And there's no coffee pot, it's one of those modern single-serving magicK cups. There's no newspaper at all. Harry and Ginny are sat at the table, sipping from giant mugs of coffee with a serving bowl of cut fruit in the centre of the table and empty bowls in front of each of them. The wireless softly plays Lee Jordan's Radio Hour, and Harry and Ginny are deep in conversation about something. James, shirtless, wearing his joggers and bright red socks, stands next to an aga mixing batter.

"Morning," Teddy says, walking into the room, and the three of them turn to smile at him.

"We were taking bets on who would sleep later, you or Al and Scorpius," Ginny informs.

"My bet is always on Al to sleep latest, but with Scorpius here," Harry pauses, "it adds an unknown factor."

James points his whisk at Harry, and a glop of pancake batter falls to the floor. Teddy's eyes follow its descent, but before it can splat, the floor shines with a ripple of magic and the glob disappears. Teddy huffs a light laugh, wondering when the Potters had installed self-cleaning floors. He supposes it's natural, having raised three children here. He’d always been kind of fascinated by the magic involved in those charms, how they manage to only vanish unintentional spills and not like, dropped wands.

"You think he's more likely to get up early, in hopes of sex, or more likely to sleep late, from sex last night?" James asks.

Harry and Ginny both press palms to ears and sing, "La, la, la!"

James cackles and turns back to the stove.

Teddy can only look on in amusement. After a moment, he walks over to the magicK cup machine, selects a mug from the mismatched selection on the shelf, and presses the button. His mug fills with coffee, and only when he carries it to the table and sits does he notice that he's chosen a mug that says "Blood of my Enemies (jk it's coffee)."

"So what are you doing here, really?" Harry asks, his hands wrapped around his own mug, which reads, "I <3 naps but I stay woke."

Teddy sips his coffee. It's not very good—mediocre at best, and Teddy kicks himself for letting his dad turn him into a coffee snob. It's much better to be content with mediocrity. He swallows, using the time it takes the bitter liquid to go down to think about how he should answer. He can't let them know who he is. Or rather, who he _isn't._ And he needs to find out what he can about this world.

Teddy shrugs. "Would you accept it if I just said it was probably a quarter-life crisis and I don't want to talk about it?"

Harry exchanges a glance with Ginny. If Teddy’s reading it right, it seems to suggest they’ve assumed he’s having marital problems. Teddy guesses that, in the scheme of things, it’s not the worst thing they could assume. They turn and smile at him with such _pity_ that Teddy swallows nervously, completely uncomfortable with the lie.

"Harry," Ginny says, blatantly changing the subject, "you should tell Teddy what's been happening at the Auror office."

Teddy raises his mug to hide the expression on his face—Harry is an Auror?!

"Oh yeah," Harry says, affecting a shudder.

"Actually," Teddy interrupts, seeing an opportunity and taking it, "I was wondering what you know about the Department of Mysteries."

Harry raises his eyebrows. "On the record, or off?"

Teddy can't stop a small smile: if they think he's a journalist looking for a scoop, it will explain at least a bit of his odd behaviour. "Off the record. Who's in charge?"

"Ezekiel Nettles," Harry says, and Teddy breathes a sigh of relief. At least that is the same. "I work with him sometimes when we have interdepartmental cases."

"Hmmm," Teddy says, serving himself a bowl of fruit.

James yelps. "Bugger." He sticks his finger in his mouth, sucking on it as he flips the pancakes off the simmering plate and onto a platter.

James Levitates the plate of pancakes to the table with a clatter. "And the eggs," he murmurs, fetching a bowl of scrambled eggs and a serving spoon. He sits next to Teddy. "I am starving."

"You're always starving," Ginny says around a bite of pancake, and Teddy wonders how they've all served themselves so quickly. He hastens to grab a pancake for himself before they're all gone. James cuts his small stack of pancakes twice and starts shoving huge chunks into his mouth, and Teddy covers a smile, thinking of how Narcissa and Lucius are always making veiled disparaging comments about Teddy's table manners, which are worlds better than James's.

"Do you have plans for today?" Harry asks.

"Me?" he and James ask in unison.

"Either, both," Harry says, waving a hand in the air.

James says, "I should go on a run or something, but I don't have any other plans. You wanna come, Teddy?"

Teddy stares at James's inquiring face. Does he want to go on a _run?!_ Is that…a thing his other self does? He tries to remember the last time he—no, never. Definitely never. Well, how hard can it be? And it's Saturday; he can't go in to Level Nine today.

"Sure," he says, "if you have trainers I can borrow."

***

Turns out running is the work of the devil.

James is trying to _talk_ on their run, which would be fine except that Teddy cannot breathe.

"So, I broke up with Mathias."

Teddy only just refrains from asking _who_? "Oh no," Teddy chokes out around his running asphyxiation, hoping that's the right sentiment.

"Nah, it's fine," James says, his voice not even tired. "And it was a few months ago now. He really was a wanker. I dunno. I'm glad I realised."

Teddy tries to think of the things people usually say. "You're better off."

"Yeah," James says. "It's not like I need more to fill my time. I'm so busy with training and everything else."

"Life can't be work alone," Teddy says without thinking, echoing his mother, who is always trying to convince him to work less and have more fun. Teddy doesn't know why he says it, because he generally rolls his eyes at his mum when she does.

James snorts. "You know training keeps me calm." He turns to give Teddy a wry look. "Well, calmer, anyway."

Teddy laughs through his laboured breathing. If there's one thing he's learned about this man, it's that he's not calm.

"You're out of shape, old man," James says with a grin, running ahead and turning to run backwards down the country lane, facing Teddy.

Teddy rolls his eyes. "I'm _old_? Please."

"Twenty-eight is ancient," James jokes. "You look like you're going to bust a lung. Not everyone can have the vigour of youth, I suppose."

Teddy stares at this cocky, ridiculous man, who is running backwards, hair askew, freckles on his nose, gorgeous shirtless torso rendered ridiculous by a ponderous contraption wrapped snug across his chest.

"At least I don't still live with my parents," Teddy quips, and then flinches, because that's probably not a joke an orphan would make. James doesn't blink, though, and Teddy quickly changes the subject. "What is that thing, anyway?"

James looks down. "This? It uses charms to sense my heart rate and tells me if I'm exercising in the right range. I asked Uncle George and Granddad to make it; you know how they like to tinker."

"So, are you in the right range?"

James's grin widens. "Noooope. Because I'm matching your pace."

"Oh, fuck you," Teddy says, laughing, and he can't help but wonder at how easy this interaction is. Is this what it's like to have a brother, or a cousin? He's never once in his life had someone take the piss about him being old. Usually he's the youngest in the room, the one who makes everyone else grimace when reflecting upon their ages.

James laughs and turns away, sprinting ahead. Teddy watches in astonishment as James runs ahead of him for a few minutes, his red tracksuit bottoms shrinking in Teddy's frame of vision. Teddy stops running, leans forward and rests his hands on his knees, panting. A minute later, the red splotch starts to enlarge, and James runs back towards him, a ridiculous grin on his face.

"Got my heart rate in range," he says.

"You wanker," Teddy pants. "I have a desk job!"

James laughs, patting Teddy on the back. "You must not run much, or you wouldn't be wearing cotton clothes. Why didn't you take some of my magicked gear?"

James's bottoms are light and stretchy, no sweat on them. Teddy's clothes are wet and sticking to him, but then, Teddy is clueless about magical exercise fabrics. He has no idea whether the other version of himself is, though. "Because I'm an idiot."

"At least you admit it," James says, nodding with faux solemnity.

"We need to do something I can kick your arse at when we're done with this."

"Like what?" James asks, raising an eyebrow.

Teddy had been thinking of, like, Exploding Snap. Or a crossword. Or anything that doesn't require cardiovascular health, really. But his libido, usually content to lie dormant, is, suddenly and quite without permission, stirring. When he opens his mouth, all he can think of is James, shirtless, looking at him with that cockiness—that peculiar cockiness that's not arrogance, a cockiness tempered with goofiness and not taking himself too seriously—naked, on a bed. Which is surely _not_ what he should be thinking about this man. This man who is kind of related to him, and living in the wrong universe. Fuck.

"Er, I dunno," he sputters. "Can we turn back now?"

James nods and starts jogging towards the Potter house.

Teddy falls in next to him, having caught his breath, and grasps for something to talk about that will distract him. "Er, how is Scorpius's dad?"

James seems surprised at the question. "Fine, I suppose. Scorp says he's a little lonely since his mum died, you know, but that he's doing ok."

Draco is a _widower?!_

"Is your dad—I mean, are your parents friends with him?" Teddy asks.

James snorts. "Friends? I dunno about that. They're cordial, pretty much what you'd expect of former enemies who are now basically in-laws. When we all get together for dinner, Mum goes out of her way to mention Dad ridding the world of Death Eaters, and Dad and Mr Malfoy usually get into some silent contest over something or other—one time it was bringing out more and more expensive wine—and Mr Malfoy wears clothes that are too nice and Dad goes in the opposite direction and wears like, ripped jeans from the 90s, and Albus and Scorpius end up drunk before the meal is over."

Teddy bursts out laughing, because that sounds at least reminiscent of his Harry and Draco and he can envision it quite well.

"Then when Mr Malfoy leaves, Mum and Dad go at it."

Teddy stops laughing. " _What?_ "

"You know, they're like all fired up and reminded of why they like each other or something, and suddenly," James stops and makes a _pop_ noise, "Silencing Charms on their bedroom."

"Sweet Merlin."

"It's funny as fuck," James laughs. "Al and Scorp try to keep the dads apart as much as possible, but it's inevitable on holidays and stuff."

Teddy tries to laugh, but the idea of Harry without Draco physically hurts his heart. He can't imagine it, even though he's seen this Harry and Ginny together and they do, admittedly, seem happy.

They jog in companionable silence for a minute, Teddy's mind swirling with thoughts about this universe he's found himself in and missing his home. Then James stops without warning and grabs Teddy's arm. He crosses his arms over his chest, dislodging his magic heart rate thing so that it slides over his nipple. Teddy drags his eyes to James’s face.

"Why did you come back?"

James is looking at him with complete openness, his eyes showing so much emotion—hurt, confusion, hope. It's painfully obvious that James has _missed_ Teddy. Teddy knows he should come up with a lie that's likely to keep this universe from changing, but he can't think of a single lie when he's looking at James's earnest face. "I—" He stops and shrugs. It's the most honest answer he can give.

James presses his lips together, looking angry for a second, but then quite suddenly he wraps Teddy in a tight hug.

It's been a long time since Teddy has been hugged like this. He hugs people all the time, of course. His mum throws an arm around his shoulder, his dad claps him on the back. Harry gives him a quick squeeze, his grandmother wraps him in her small frame. But not like this. James is solid, and real, and _squeezing_ him. James is embracing him like he's trying to say that everything is okay, that he wants him here. James is hugging him like the entire multiverse depends on it. No one has ever hugged Teddy like this.

He can smell James's shampoo and sweat and Teddy's whole body feels alive, like the hug is waking up his every nerve ending. And then James pulls away.

After a hug like that, Teddy expects him to say something, but James says nothing, just starts walking.

Teddy hates not knowing the details of his history with James. Had they spent tons of time together? Had James been like a brother? Where had Teddy lived?—with his grandmother, probably?

"What's your favourite memory?" Teddy blurts.

James's face wrinkles with confusion. "Huh?"

"Your favourite memory from when we were kids?"

The confusion morphs into a smile. "Hmmmmm, so many to choose from." He taps his finger on his chin in a charade of thoughtfulness. "Probably the time your clumsy arse fell off the roof when you were supposed to be babysitting and I had to Floo St Mungo's."

Teddy huffs out an incredulous laugh, afraid to say anything lest he reveal himself.

"You were so worried what Dad was going to say, even in pain with broken bones, and I remember feeling so fucking grown-up that I was the one who took care of you."

"You shouldn't have to take care of me—you're an infant," Teddy jokes.

"Yeah well, tell me that when you're on the ground in the middle of those crazy bushes Neville planted. With a broken femur and a rash from the plant oils. Plus, we take care of each other. Remember the time I got myself stuck in that magical fairytale book and you had to come in and get me out?"

Teddy laughs. "When was that?"

James shrugs. "Probably after you'd started at Hogwarts."

"What about when we were older, what's your favourite memory of then?" Teddy asks, still laughing.

James calls "Hey Al!", and Teddy is disappointed to miss James's answer. But they've arrived back at the house, and Albus and Scorpius are sitting in the garden with a laptop.

Albus looks up. "What?"

"What are you two doing?" James asks, sitting down next to his brother.

Scorpius smiles. "We're watching Doctor Who!"

"Which Doctor?" Teddy asks, sitting down.

Albus raises an eyebrow. "Since when do you watch?"

"Uhh. I don't remember." Teddy peers at the screen, which must be charmed to be visible in sunlight. "Did you see the article about using magic to recover some of the lost episodes?"

"YES!" Albus and Scorpius answer enthusiastically, and James flops onto his back in the grass, clearly uninterested.

"Albus and I think we could probably do it—why haven't they made any progress with it?"

"Bureaucracy I guess, wasn't that a Ministry worker who wrote that article?" Teddy guesses, shrugging. "I could help, if you want to make a mission out of it."

Albus smiles. "You think you can help? It's not exactly a normal task for a journalist."

"You'd be surprised," Teddy says, and it's fun that people here don't know he's an Unspeakable. It's a job that really changes the way people treat you, which is something Teddy's never enjoyed, even though he loves the job. If people know he's an Unspeakable, they expect him to be a genius all the time and he inevitably falls short. It’s lonely. Here, he can surprise them.

"I'm starving though," Albus says. "Let's get some food."

"Do you ever stop eating?" Teddy asks, laughing.

James sits up and the three of them turn to face him, answering in tandem, "No."

Teddy follows them into the kitchen, amused, and slices the bread when asked.

***

The weekend passes in a haze of good food (cooked by Harry), junk food (provided by Albus), beer (provided by James), Firewhiskey (provided by Ginny), and speculation about the magical theory of film (provided by Scorpius).

For the most part, Teddy feels remarkably at home in this upside-down universe, since they all treat him like a member of the family and are loud and boisterous enough that lapses in conversation go unnoticed. He has one brief scare when Harry asks him how he came to be a Doctor Who fan and Teddy starts to answer without thinking, "My mum…", changing at the last second to say, "I think my mum would've liked it." His heart beats rapidly, worried about being caught out, but Harry's face takes on a faraway look, and he says only, "You know, I think she would've. She would be excited about the first woman Doctor." Teddy nods, wishing he could tell Harry that his mum had talked of nothing else for an entire week after the announcement in 2017, and then spent ages railing against all the men who were so “surprised” that fans liked her.

Teddy is amused by the bathroom shared by the Potter children, which is filled with dozens of half-full cosmetic potion bottles, magical combs and make-up, single-use hair charms, and nail varnish that becomes any colour you like with a whispered incantation. (The bottle is currently black, and Teddy wonders which of them used it last—his money is on Albus.) On a shelf above the toilet is a basketful of magical condoms, male and female contraception-prophylactic potions, and lube. Next to it is a sign that reads, "We will keep this basket full without asking questions, so long as you use them—every time—and tell us nothing." _Nothing_ is underlined three times. Teddy laughs every time he uses the loo.

He sleeps soundly in Lily's green bedroom, and wonders if he'll ever get to meet her. She seems like a person he'd like to know, if only guessing by the decor in her room, which features a lot of dragons, unicorns, and what seems to be a mythical "dragnicorn" (which looks remarkably like a dragon in drag).

The culture of the Potter house is different for Teddy, who has grown up in a small house with only his mum and dad. His house's decorations had consisted mostly of books, tea, and old-fashioned gramophone records. Since his dad was usually away at Hogwarts four nights a week, and his mum worked a lot as an Auror, his house was always…calm. Teddy was the kind of child who was happy to sit on the sofa next to his dad, reading a book, or practising duelling stances with his mum and inevitably collapsing into a pile of giggles with both of them changing their hair colours. He wonders if his house would've become more like the Potters' if his parents'd had more children.

He also wonders what his other self thinks of the Potter house—is he used to it, or is it even more of a shock, having grown up alone with his grandmother? As it is, he finds himself enjoying it—he's certainly not the centre of attention, that'd be James, but he sits in the boisterous living room and watches, full of warmth and amusement and curiosity about these people who shouldn't exist.

On Monday morning, he announces that he needs to do some work, which earns him curious looks but thankfully no questions from Harry and Ginny, and he grabs his bag and Apparates from the garden to the Apparition Point near the Ministry in London.

He's wearing Harry's clothes, which is unfortunate, but he'd rather look like a forty-six-year-old Head Auror than a twenty-two-year-old Quidditch player, so he doesn't have much of a choice. Why does Harry even _have_ trousers like this? They look like hand-me-downs from Ron, and Harry really doesn't have an excuse for continuing his hand-me-down lifestyle. Although, Teddy supposes, Harry does have an excuse: he doesn't have Draco. Teddy's been around them enough to know that Draco is forever battling against Harry's clothes, and he's seen the soft looks of understanding that pass between them that make Teddy think some deeper issue is involved. But Ginny doesn't give a damn about clothes, it seems. She went out yesterday wearing one of Albus's t-shirts.

Whatever the reason, Harry's clothes are an abomination, and Teddy is wearing them. He picks at the fabric as he walks, trying to adjust the ill-fitting trousers, but worrying that all he's accomplishing is making himself waddle as he walks into the visitor's entrance.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”

"Teddy Lupin to see Ezekiel Nettles."

“Thank you,” the bodiless voice replies. “Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.”

Teddy grabs the badge (which reads "Teddy Lupin, Department of Mysteries, no appointment") and waits apprehensively as the phone booth descends with a clanking rumble.

“Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day.”

Before Teddy steps into the atrium, he concentrates on his hair, turning it from the purple he’d chosen that morning to a neutral brown. He doesn't fancy being recognised or approached by people who might know his other self.

The witch at the security desk doesn't give him a second glance as she checks his wand and searches him, just waves him on without a word. Before he knows it, he's through the lift ride and standing on Level Nine. He'd kind of hoped it would take longer, as he's not eager to go in—he has no idea what to expect behind those doors.

Thinking of his mum and dad, and his Harry and Draco, and all the rest of his friends and life, he takes a deep breath and enters the Department of Mysteries, winding his way through the purposely confusing layout, eventually coming to the main reception desk. He recognises Imelda, the witch who runs the department administration, and takes a breath of relief—but she, apparently, doesn't recognise him.

"Can I help you?"

"I—" He doesn't know how to succinctly state his reason for being here. "I need to see Mr Nettles. It's urgent. He'll want to see me."

She peers at him over her glasses, unconvinced. He wishes he were wearing more confidence-inspiring clothes; no wonder she doesn't trust him. "You do not have an appointment. I'm not even sure how you found your way here. There is no Mr Nettles."

For a moment, Teddy's stomach drops, but then he remembers that Harry confirmed Nettles is head of the Unspeakables and he realises he's getting the run-around from Imelda. He needs to convince her that he belongs here. "I—I know his security question."

"Oh," she says, demeanour completely changed. "Why didn't you say so? What is it?"

"He's supposed to ask, 'What is my favourite potion ingredient?' and I'm supposed to answer, 'Ashwinder.'"

Imelda leans forward on her elbows. "That question is on the list. But I wasn't aware it had been assigned to anyone."

Teddy smiles. "Well, it is the Department of _Mysteries_ ," he says with a smile, hoping she'll let him in without further explanation here in the reception area.

"Go on in," she says, pointing to Nettles's office. "He's free at the moment, though I make no guarantee of his mood."

"Thank you!" Teddy says, trying to flash her a charming smile but knowing from the look on her face that she's still suspicious.

He knocks on the door to Nettles's office. "Enter!" Teddy rolls his eyes at Nettles's dramatics; the man can never just say "Come in" like a normal person.

When Teddy walks in, Ezekiel Nettles looks up from his desk and frowns. "And who might you be?" he asks without preamble.

The office is exactly how Teddy remembers it from his universe. The windows are charmed to mimic looking over a country courtyard, there's a teapot steaming on a side table, and there's a large, disconcerting oil painting behind his desk that represents the Unspeakables: it depicts a human face, but every time you look at it, the face appears differently, and it is always slowly morphing in front of your eyes, never staying static long enough to grasp.

"Hello, sir," Teddy says, slumping his bag off his shoulder and letting it fall into one of the chairs. "I don't exactly know how to say what I need to say."

"After two decades working in this department, I think I can tell you that, whatever it is, I've heard it before."

Teddy raises an eyebrow, but doesn't contradict him. "I'm Teddy Lupin. I unintentionally travelled here from a parallel universe. In that universe—my universe—I'm an Unspeakable. I work under Tajik in Magi-Cosmos."

Nettles's brows furrow.

"I was researching the multiverse—"

"We're just starting a project on the multiverse."

"Well, yeah," Teddy says. "That makes sense. I assume the department is mostly the same as it is in my universe. I was in my flat, reading my notes, and then I experienced a corporeal transport, similar to the sensation of Apparition, and when it ended, I was standing in the garden of a house and I realised I wasn't in my universe."

Nettles's face takes on a sense of urgency. "Have you interacted with anyone here?"

"Well, yes," Teddy says. "I couldn't avoid it."

"But how did you know this wasn't your universe?"

"I tried to Apparate home and couldn't. Then I ran into people and—they aren't as they should be."

"You landed in the garden—of a house of people you _know?_ " Nettles looks like he's going to burst an artery.

"Yes. Harry Potter's house. And because I couldn't get away and had nowhere else to go, and it was the weekend and you wouldn't be here, I just pretended to be the other me."

Nettles jumps out of his chair. "And what if you had run into your other self, idiot boy!"

"I—he lives in Australia."

"Do you have anything with which to substantiate these claims?"

Teddy pulls his notes out of his bag. "These items all came with me. Notes about cases. I don't have anything else because it wasn't planned."

Nettles points his wand at his throat and opens his mouth as if he's about to holler, but no sound comes out. The sound of his voice, however, echoes from far away, somewhere down the corridor. "Rufus! Bring me the case files you're using!"

A moment later, Rufus, one of Teddy's annoying colleagues, runs into the office, holding the files out to Nettles. The file on Agnes Malyns is on top, and Nettles searches through Teddy's stack to find the Malyns file. He places them on the desk in front of him. They each have a coffee stain on the front right corner. Nettles's eyes take on a hint of mania.

"Well, well, well," Nettles whispers, sparkling with interest. He waves his wand at the files. "It's not a duplicate. Well, well, well." He places his hands flat on the desk. "Tell me," he pauses dramatically, " _everything_ about the jump. Do not tell me information about your universe."

Rufus makes to sit, but Nettles snaps his fingers. "No. Go back to your office." Rufus scurries out of the room and Nettles sits, all ears.

Teddy launches into as detailed an explanation of his inter-universal jump as he can remember. When he gets to the part where he was looking through Bev Hancock's personal effects, Nettles stops him with a raised hand.

"Why did Hancock have personal effects?"

"Items collected after their disappearance, sir."

"But Hancock didn't disappear."

"Er," Teddy says, unsure how to respond to that. "Yes they did? In 2016…in my universe."

"In 2016?" Nettles asks. “That’s odd. They didn’t start here until around then, I think.” He pauses, but when Teddy says nothing, his brain whirling, Nettles says, “Well, go on!"

Teddy resumes his story, explaining about the Avicissitudinem and the _Velum mundorum transvenire,_ including how he'd tried the incantation again once he landed here, to no effect.

"Did you drink the potion you found?" Nettles asks, about to launch into a scolding.

"No, of course not!" What kind of substandard Unspeakable does Nettles think he is? "But—"

"Buuuuut," Nettles prompts, waving a hand.

"It did spill on my leg." Teddy frowns. "What I don't understand is how a potion used to prevent change could have been involved in—"

"Okay, you know what, stop." Nettles's hand is up again. "I don't want to hear any more from you until we've verified what you've told me so far. I need to look up your alleged other self in Australia—and do you have any idea the type of international clearance and paperwork that I need to deal with to do that?"

"Sir—"

"And I cannot risk hearing more from you until then." He leans forward, his red face pulsing with frenzy. " _Information contamination._ "

"But—"

"Protocol, Mr Lupin!" he bellows. "But first," he holds up his wand, "do I have your permission to check for Charms, potions, identity?"

Teddy nods, surprised it's taken this long. Nettles's magic settles over him, feeling invasive. He watches with vague interest as his skin shimmers for a moment; he knows if he were under the influence of Polyjuice, the shimmer would've intensified. Nettles waves his wand a few more times, presumably determining that Teddy hadn't charmed his appearance.

Nettles stops. "Why is this charm telling me that your appearance isn't in a stable state?"

"Oh," Teddy replies. "I'm a metamorphmagus, sir." He changes his hair pink to demonstrate.

Nettles's eyes narrow, and annoyance prickles at Teddy's back even though he can't be sure if Nettles is being strange about it or just thinking. Nettles, as befits an Unspeakable, is a hard man to read.

"Magical signature, please," Nettles says, holding up a small glass orb. Teddy casts the spell to transfer a bit of his magical signature, and a moment later the orb reads, "Edward Remus Lupin, DOB: 28 April 1998."

"I will owl you after I verify this intelligence," Nettles says and points at the door.

Teddy sighs, but doesn't argue any further—he knows how pointless it is to argue with this man. He gathers his things and Nettles hands him back his files.

"Sir?" Teddy asks, surprised Nettles doesn't want to keep the files here.

"No, no," he says. "Can't risk tainting my objectivity with possibly compromised artefacts!"

Good lord, Teddy thinks, but he's grateful to gather the files into his bag.

"Wait," Nettles says. "Wait. Should I keep you here?" Teddy has the sense that Nettles is talking to himself rather than expecting an answer. It's disconcerting, but he's learned over the years that it's just one of Nettles’s idiosyncrasies, not evidence of incompetence.

"You've been with the Potters. Tell me, will they be suspicious if you disappear now? Or would your disappearance be easily explained?"

Teddy thinks of the eyes that have missed his other self, the warm hugs, the easy acceptance and welcome into the family. He thinks of James's slightly hurt, hopeful eyes. "They would be suspicious, and would probably contact my other self in Australia."

"Caesar's ghost," Nettles mutters. "Go back where you were. Do not be seen by anyone else. Do not talk to other people. Stay in the Muggle world, away from places where you would expect to see anyone magical who knows the other you. Better yet, lock yourself in a room. Buy one of those experimental sex toys everyone knows that Jorkins in Death is making on the side; keep yourself busy somewhere _private._ "

"Er," Teddy says, trying not to laugh or huff. "Thank you, sir." He walks out of the office, wondering whether he's accomplished anything at all by coming here.

"Don't talk to anyone else!" Nettles shouts at his back.

On his walk back to the Atrium lifts, Teddy passes a person in the corridor who makes him do a double-take: Bev Hancock. Just like the photo from the file in his bag. They're walking along, reading a parchment, not looking up.

Teddy stops short. "Bev Hancock."

Bev stops, turns. "Yeah?"

"You—" Teddy doesn't know how to continue and decides to just cut straight to the suspicion he’s had ever since Nettles’s reaction a few minutes ago. "Have you travelled here from another universe?"

For an infinitesimal moment, Bev's face displays a fearful shock, but it's gone before Teddy can be sure he really saw it, replaced by a bit of a mocking smile. "Uhh," they say, laughing slightly, as if Teddy has lost his mind. "Noooo?"

But Teddy hasn't lost his mind, and Bev Hancock had looked _scared._ Before Teddy can do anything else, Bev walks away.

"Hey!" Teddy shouts, but Bev is gone, disappeared as is their wont. "Fuck." As Teddy catches Imelda's unamused look, he retreats, wishing for the millionth time that the Department of Mysteries wasn't run as quite such a tight ship.

***

"I'm bored," James says from where he's lying across the Potter's living room floor, arm over his eyes.

Teddy's in an armchair, trying to read the one book he had in his bag when he made the jump to this universe—the Potions book he'd been consulting about the Avicissitudinem _._ He wishes he had more of his things—his laptop, his phone, though he’s not sure whether they would work after an inter-universal jump. This Potions book isn't really the book he needs right now, but it is the book he has, so he's trying to read it. He's enchanted the cover to look like a boring biography, which is his best bet as to what a journalist might read for work. He is probably wrong. He isn't sure journalists research at all.

"Hi Bored, I'm Dad," Harry says from the sofa, and Teddy finds himself groaning along with James.

"Dad," James sighs. " _Dad._ We are all adults here. Lay off the dad jokes."

"I'll lay off the dad jokes when I'm not a dad," Harry retorts with a laugh, turning to Ginny, who is sitting with her legs draped over his lap, holding a card from Trivial Pursuit.

The Potter house has been much calmer since Albus and Scorpius went home to their flat in Edinburgh, where Scorpius is a student in veterinary healing and Albus is studying something that Teddy hasn't yet been able to identify.

Teddy isn’t sure how he should feel right now, and he can’t make his brain concentrate on this book. He keeps thinking of his parents, of Harry and Draco, of his grandmother, and wondering if he’s been declared a Missing Person. Does he have a file that looks like Bev’s? One that says _Teddy Lupin. Date of birth 28 April 1998. Last seen at Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire. Noted missing…_

He can’t really imagine what they will do. He guesses his mum and Harry are the storm-the-Ministry-and-demand-answers type, but it’s hard to know how people will react in an emergency. Draco is probably in the Manor library, researching, wondering if there is some old spell he can use to find Teddy. Remus—well, Teddy isn’t sure how his dad will react. He supposes he needs to put his trust in Nettles and the other Unspeakables; for all you can say about Unspeakables, they nearly always figure things out. He sighs and tries to focus on reading.

"What William Makepeace Thackeray novel was made into a movie by Stanley Kubrick?" Ginny asks.

Harry scrunches his nose.

Teddy can't believe they're actually playing the Muggle version of Trivial Pursuit—apparently they alternate because Ginny usually wins the wizarding version, while they both suck at the Muggle version.

"Uhh, _A Clockwork Orange_?"

"Nope!" Ginny boasts with a huge smile.

"Fuck," Harry mumbles. "How is anyone supposed to know any other Kubrick film?"

"Didn't you read that book, Dad?" James asks, still recumbent. "Still can't remember the author?"

Harry sighs. "Apparently. What colour is Manhattan-style clam chowder?"

"Red!" Ginny shouts.

"Fuck you," Harry grumbles as a pie piece soars through the air. "I'm going to cheat. I'm going to take it right out of your pie holder when you're not looking."

"Ooooh, kinky," Ginny jokes, winking, and Teddy snorts.

"Can you stop?" James asks. "Sex jokes about you two are only funny if I'm the one making them."

Ginny raises her wand and sends a gust of cold air at James, blowing his hair comically off his face.

"Hey!" James objects, sitting up, but Ginny just laughs and turns back to Harry.

"What's Columbo's first name?"

James stands and grabs Teddy's book off his lap, throwing it on Teddy's bag. "Let's get out of here."

Teddy has to admit the idea is appealing. An excuse to put this book down and get his mind off his worries. "What do you want to do?" Teddy asks just as Harry says, "Uhhh, Christopher?" and Ginny bursts into uncontrollable laughter.

"I don't care," James says. "Literally anything but this. We could go flying."

"No way." Teddy stands and flashes a smile. "You're a professional, and I'm not an idiot."

"Well, what do you like to do?" James asks. "Surfing?"

Teddy freezes; he can't go surfing with James. The other Teddy is apparently a surfer, but he has never been surfing. He laughs nervously. "It's November. In England."

James waves a hand. "They have that indoor wizarding surfing place."

Teddy's brain whirls. "Er, but then you're at a disadvantage. How about this: we go do something neither of us has ever done before?"

Harry triumphantly shouts, "Winston Churchill!!!!"

James breaks into a feral grin. "Perfect."

Which is how Teddy finds himself at a Muggle rock climbing gym—no, a _bouldering_ gym—contemplating his life choices.

"Are they using magic?" James whispers as they both stare at a man clinging to the underside of a wall like Spiderman.

"No?" Teddy ventures, but he's really not sure. "Are we really going to do this?"

James turns, a determined look on his face that makes him look just like his mother. "I am a _professional athlete._ We are going to do it."

"I'm not a professional athlete," Teddy mumbles, and they watch as a child who can't be more than ten chalks up her hands and swings easily onto the wall. Well fuck, they can't be shown up by children. "But we're young. We're…."

"Virile?" James offers, then flashes a blinding grin. "Vigorous?"

"Yeah," Teddy says, but he doesn't sound convinced. "There's no way in hell I'm doing the high kind of climbing with the, what did they call it, the harnesses? With the ropes?"

James nods. "I don't trust those ropes at all."

"How do these mats work?" Teddy asks, flinching as the girl falls off the wall, but lands on her feet on the mat. "They're like…Cushioning Charms?"

"Fucked if I know," James says, nudging Teddy to look at a man who is swinging by his arms, unable to get his feet back on the holds. They stare in silence for a minute before James continues, "Alright, let's just do it. I'll be Gryffindor enough for us both. They said to start with the black holds."

He walks towards the wall and looks up at it, assessing his plan. He reaches a hand out to grab a hold, but before he picks his feet off the ground he looks over his shoulder and whispers, "Spot me with an _Impedimenta_ , yeah?"

"Of course," Teddy says, and James's face immediately eases of tension. He turns back to the wall and before long he's halfway across the wall, looking for the next hold.

He's mesmerising. Teddy can't be sure what it is about him. He moves with an intriguing combination of grace and strength, but that doesn't seem to be it. He's fit as fuck, his back and arm muscles tensing as he holds himself against gravity, but that's not it either.

"Balance your left foot against the wall for stability, mate!" calls one of the other climbers, and James does as he says, managing to advance to a more difficult section. He pushes himself up with his right foot, reaching towards a hold, but his foot slips.

Teddy's hand tingles with the magic that he wants to let loose to slow James's fall, but he waits—because James isn't falling, he's hanging from his fingertips.

"You got it, mate!" the lad calls. "Do a pull-up and then you can get your leg on!"

James does a pull-up easily (and fuck, Teddy is too impressed with his athleticism, he needs to stop noticing it), but doesn't manage to get his feet back on. He falls off the wall and lands gracefully on his feet—no need for an _Impedimenta_.

He turns, face alight. "Your turn, Lupin."

Teddy hesitates for half a second, at which point James leans forward and goads, "If you think you can, old man."

Teddy laughs, walking over to the wall. "My age brings with it wisdom and experience!" he calls as he grasps the hold with his right hand, trying to get a feel for the texture of the rough plastic and the way that he needs to use friction to his advantage.

He places his left foot on a hold and looks where he's supposed to go next, moving with precision from one hold to the next. He doesn't have any of James's natural facility with movement—his metamorphmagus body makes sure of that—so he compensates with careful, deliberate motions, steadily placing his foot in a good hold before he shifts his weight, presses up with his legs, and moves his hands.

"You know I'm hopelessly clumsy," Teddy calls, grasping the holds tight with his fingers, then turning to see what James is doing. "This is a recipe for disaster."

James smiles, sitting on the mat, leaning back on his hands, watching carefully. Teddy can see his wand mostly hidden in between his legs, ready to be used should Teddy fall. His baby blue Puddlemere United t-shirt pulls taut across his chest, the material stretching under his armpits as his shoulder bones jut forward.

Teddy blinks and turns away, slightly shocked by the intensity of his attraction to James—he doesn’t usually feel this way. He hasn’t been attracted to anyone, really, since Colm. Even Colm, though. Teddy focuses on the wall, determined not to get distracted while he's literally hanging on by his fingertips.

"Looking good, Lupin," James calls jauntily. "Your arse looks fantastic climbing in my tracksuit bottoms."

Teddy whirls around so fast—what the _fuck_?! What kind of look is on James's face as he says that?!—that he loses his grip, falling straight off the wall onto his (apparently fantastic) arse.

James blinks, surprised, then hops up and jogs over. "You okay?"

Teddy groans. The mat is surprisingly soft, he has to hand it to the Muggles, but he's still a little shocked—whether from the fall, or from what James just said, he's not sure. "Yeah, fine."

"You—" James starts, but stops. "You—"

Teddy's attention snaps to James's stammer; it's the first time he's ever seen James look unsure. "What?"

"What?" James echoes.

Teddy raises an arm, waving his hand indistinctly at James.

"You fell off the wall—" James says eventually, "because I distracted you? You never get distracted by—"

Teddy can't figure out why James is being so strange. He's never seen James frazzled before, never heard him phrase a declaration as a question like that. "Well, you did distract me!" Teddy says, figuring that he can't be the only person in the world to get flustered by impromptu arse compliments.

"You never—" James stops, then his face shutters a bit, taking on an exuberant grin that annoys Teddy because it seems just a tiny bit fake. "Anyway, I compliment everyone's arse."

"Really," Teddy deadpans.

"Yep, even if they have a bad one. It's only good manners."

Teddy laughs, and James holds his hand out to help Teddy off the mat. James's hand is strong, callused and chalky from the climbing.

After they each have a few more goes at the wall, they end up lying on the mat in an out-of-the-way corner.

"You seem different," James says.

Teddy tenses, but it sounds like an observation rather than an accusation. "Different how?"

James turns to look at him, shrugs. "I dunno."

"Different good or different bad?"

James laughs. "Fuck, I don't know! Like, you somehow seem more comfortable in your skin, more grounded, even as you seem like, lost."

Teddy closes his eyes in an attempt to keep his emotions from showing. He wonders, not for the first time, about his other self. He doesn't really know why he cares, but he wants his other self to be happy, to be good. It makes him uneasy to think that the other Teddy had left everything—his family, his country—behind him. He wishes he could ask James why the other Teddy had left.

"Do you lot hate me for having left?" Teddy finally asks.

He feels an elbow hit him in the ribs. "Course not, idiot. We understand wanting to start over, to go somewhere where people don't expect certain things of you. Dad understands better than anyone, probably."

Teddy doesn't say anything.

"We all cope with it differently," James says. "You know, like I just wink at the camera and do my own fucking thing to spite the way people think Harry Potter's son should act. And Albus, I dunno, pretends it doesn't exist and retreats into his Scorpius bubble. It's a lot to handle, and I mean, you're not officially a Potter, but it was pretty much the same for you. It's hard to hear all the time about how your parents were war heroes."

Teddy's chest tightens until it aches. Teddy has never had anyone who could understand what this is like, and quite without warning he feels hot tears pricking at his eyes. He sucks in a breath, trying to keep control, and thinks of all the times people have expected things of him, not because of who he is, but because of who his _parents_ are—Mum, the long-respected Auror; Dad, the esteemed professor; godfather, the Saviour of the world. He thinks of how hard he worked in school, trying to live up to the impossible, of how his grandmother gets asked what he's doing with his life, as if even strangers expect to be impressed by him. He wonders how much of his life has been spent trying to live up to the hype, he wonders if that's why he never dates—he's too busy trying to distinguish himself in an already impossibly distinguished line of work. Because that's what people in his family do. Or maybe the reason he doesn't date is because he knows no one can understand the pressure he feels.

Because in Teddy's universe, there's no one to share it with. When Teddy was at Hogwarts, there were no Potter children starting in a few years, so Teddy and the Weasleys were the famous ones. And because Teddy was the one who wasn't a Weasley (so many Weasleys at Hogwarts—it had been a standing joke that everyone dates a Weasley before they leave school), he always stood out. There was no one to commiserate with, and moreover, Teddy wouldn't have thought to _want_ to commiserate about it—what were his issues with social expectations compared with what his parents went through? His people, the people who loved him, had all been through experiences that he couldn't even imagine, so what did he have to complain about?

But here's a man who has lived it—has lived it as much or more than Teddy. Harry Potter's eldest son. Teddy can only imagine what kind of lot that is, how those expectations have weighed on James since he was old enough to understand. But James’s attitude, his way of dealing with it, is so _vibrant_ , so _alive_ , that Teddy feels himself aching with the realisation that he's needed this—a person who gets it.

Does his other self take it for granted?

"Sorry," Teddy chokes out after a long second, "I'm just—not used to people understanding that."

Teddy hears James sigh and feels his warm hand reach over and grab Teddy’s, twining their fingers together and squeezing. "The children of heroes," James says in a WWN-announcer voice. "Why aren't they happier? Don't they realise how lucky they are?"

Teddy snorts, opening his eyes and turning his head to look at James, whose cheeks are slightly flushed. When he sees Teddy looking, he sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry at Teddy's face.

But just as Teddy is becoming aware of how close they are, how odd and nice it is to be holding hands with someone, James laughs and points across the gym. The girl who was climbing before is playing leapfrog with a boy, the two of them near the point of collapsing with laughter as they attempt to launch themselves over each other's squatting bodies.

Teddy laughs, enamoured with their playfulness. "I never played that game."

James pushes up on his elbows. "Excuse me?"

Teddy's heart starts to race. Is he meant to have played it with James, or is James only outraged that Teddy has missed this particular childhood pastime? "No siblings," he says with a shrug. "Unless we played it and I don't remember." Not a lie, technically.

"Not that I remember," James says, rolling forward into a squat. "Well come on, then."

"What, now?!" Teddy asks with a disbelieving chuckle.

"Don't overthink it," James advises, looking over his shoulder with a grin and then tucking his head down to make Teddy's leap more manageable.

Teddy stands slowly, looking at how James has made himself into a small hurdle. He chances a glance over at the girl and her leapfrog partner, noting how she places her hands on her partner's back and then jumps straight over. "Okay."

"Any day now."

Wanting to shut James up more than anything, Teddy stands behind him, places his hands on James's back just above his scapulas, takes a breath, and attempts a jump. He gets scared at the last second, though, convinced he's going to kick James in the head, and abortively tries to jump around him to the side. He lands somewhere to the back right of James.

James, hands on the floor in front of his squat, looks over his shoulder. "What the fuck was that?"

Teddy laughs. "You do it first, then!" He drops to a squat and tucks his head way down, aware that he's taller than James. Less than a second later he feels strong hands briefly touch his back, a slight push of pressure.

James lands in front of him, lowering immediately back down into a squat. "Ribbit."

Teddy laughs again, pushing himself up a bit, bracing his hands on James's slightly sweaty back, and hoping for the best. He leaps—and makes it! "Whooo!" he cries, squatting back down.

James leaps over him again, and within a minute they've made their way clear across the gym, earning not a few looks from the workers and other climbers. Teddy approaches James for another leap, but somehow gets thrown off by his footing, starts to topple mid-jump, and grabs James's arm to steady himself—pulling them both over into a laughing heap.

James leans on Teddy's leg, laughing so hard he’s ceased making sound, and Teddy feels, for a moment, so free, so happy. When had he decided that he was too old to play? When had he decided that being a grown-up was a serious business?

"Merlin, I needed that," Teddy admits, still laughing.

"Why is that so much easier when you're a kid?" James asks, reaching one hand out to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Probably because we now weigh five times as much?"

James nods, jumps up, and says, "Pub?"

Teddy laughs, pushing himself to a sit. "Er, sure."

"Last time I went out for a drink, Albus and Scorpius took me to this hipster bar that served like, nuts roasted in potions and cocktails made with magical spirits, but I really just wanted a pint."

"Quill & Mortar?" Teddy asks, grinning. Draco had taken Harry and Teddy there a few months ago. Harry had objected on principle until Draco had emerged from their bedroom wearing skinny jeans, at which point Harry relented. The place is ridiculous, though the drinks had been good. Teddy'd had some kind of wormwood-and-puffapod-infused gimlet.

"Yeah," James says, a curious look on his face. "How've you heard of it? It's new."

"Scorpius mentioned it," Teddy improvises, realising too late he was meant to have been in Australia and _I went there with your dad and his husband_ is not a possible answer. Shit, Teddy hates lying. He needs to be more careful.

"Well, none of that shit," James says. "Feel like being the centre of attention at the Leaky or going to a Muggle pub?"

"Muggle pub," Teddy says quickly, knowing that he absolutely cannot get his photo in the paper. Nettles would kill him.

The second they're outside and around the corner, James grabs Teddy's wrist and Apparates, and before long they're sat at a booth in a nondescript pub drinking plain old ales and large glasses of water that James insists are necessary after their exercise.

"Has it helped? Being gone?" James asks, picking up an earlier thread of conversation as he takes a long sip of beer.

Teddy shrugs. "Sometimes it helps you see things more clearly, being away. You know?"

James stares at Teddy with hazel eyes for a long second, then looks down at the slightly sticky wooden table. "Yeah." He takes a breath and meets Teddy’s eye, and Teddy isn't used to people looking at him like that. "I know it was hard—after your grandmother died. We really do understand."

It feels like a vice clamps down on his chest and tightens.

"I know we're like, the big happy family," James continues, something fierce in his eyes—he's so much his parents' son. "And I know that's hard. But you're not…"

Teddy takes a sip of beer, hoping it looks like he's giving James space rather than avoiding the conversation.

"But you're not going to disappear again after this, are you? I mean, I love sending letters but…it's not really the same, you know? Are you going to come back and visit us?"

_Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._

__It's incredible how he can go from easy camaraderie with James and the other people here to feeling sick to his stomach about the entire situation. His family is all _dead._ He's lying to everyone here who loves him—to everyone who loves the _other_ Teddy. His fingers twitch, and he falls back on his Unspeakable training, distractedly reaching into his pocket, pulling his wand and casting a nonverbal calming charm under the table. He feels the worry and anxiety disappear unnaturally from his body, and he hates it. He's always hated that the job sometimes requires humans to act like not-humans, like what the Muggles call _machines._ He hates that he has to numb himself to deal with this, but his responsibility as an Unspeakable demands that he do whatever it takes not to vomit on the table from his tangle of emotions.

"I—I don't know. I hope so." It's the best he can do, but his heart aches with hurting James, and probably Harry and the rest of the family, too.

James blows out a huff of air. "I mean, I know you have your life there. You have Brianna and work and everything. But like, bring her for Christmas. Don't you miss Christmas in England?"

Teddy _would_ miss Christmas in England, but then, he's never known anything else. He wonders if his other self misses it, but being home is somehow too hard, too painful, for some reason.

"Yeah," Teddy says, noncommittally, feeling like an arsehole because he knows he looks like he's downplaying what James is saying, brushing it off. In reality there's just nothing he can say. He doesn't even know why his other self stays away, or if he will change.

He needs to change the subject, he needs to say something else—because those hazel eyes are filled with so much emotion, so much concern and love and hope, and Teddy doesn't know what to do with it. He should ask something to find valuable information about this universe—"When in doubt on assignment, recon!" Nettles's voice sounds in his head—but he can't think of any question that wouldn't just make him seem like an insensitive imposter. Even though that's what he is.

"So tell me about Quidditch," he says eventually, and he finds that he does want to know more about James. He wants to hear about what it's like to play professional Quidditch, to hear how this famous son-of-the-Saviour ended up in a career that puts him even more in the spotlight.

James smiles. "Well, you see, there are four balls." His uncertainty from before slowly seeps away as he speaks, his smile turning into a teasing smirk. "A Quaffle, two Bludgers, and a—"

"Oi!" Teddy laughs, grabbing a paper napkin, balling it in his fist, and chucking it at James's head. "I know _that._ "

James laughs, eyes flitting to Teddy’s mouth or throat or something, and blazing heat in his eyes that takes Teddy by surprise—because as much as Teddy’s been distracted by James, he hasn’t really seen James looking at _him_. Not like that, anyway.

"It's going well, actually," James says, eyes back on Teddy’s, heat gone. "The coach is happy with how I've been playing, so I think I'll have a starting spot next season. Everyone's slightly concerned about this new recruit on the Arrows—"

Teddy smiles and allows himself to enjoy listening to James talk about his career, the passion that James feels for the sport infectious even to Teddy, who has never been that into Quidditch. Harry and Draco had taken him to matches throughout his childhood, and Teddy always enjoyed himself. Quidditch matches are fun, part of the turning of the year, part of what it means for it to be summer. Quidditch matches mean laughing in the stands, if it's early in the season, Harry and Draco wearing their Hogwarts house scarves even though it's completely ridiculous that they enjoy recalling their childhood rivalry when they are married and in their forties, eating way too many cockroach clusters, and drinking Bottomless Butterbeers. It means Harry and Draco bickering about the match (they make a point to always cheer for opposite teams). To Teddy, Quidditch involves all of that, but not actually watching the pitch.

But James's eyes are alight as he prattles on with speculation on team strategies and the charms that are now allowed in players' kits after the most recent change in league regulations, and Teddy finds himself interested. He's laughing and joining James's alternating outrage and excitement, asking questions, and it's with some surprise that he realises they've finished two pints each and sat talking for over two hours.

"I guess we should get back."

"Yeah," James says, taking his last sip of beer. "I'm glad you're here. It's weird to be home with all this time on my hands after the season ends."

Teddy stands. He knows what James means—once he moved into his flat, it started to feel strange to spend too much time at his parents' house. But this Teddy doesn't have parents. "Really?"

"Yeah, it’s different when I have to go out to practice every day. But now they like, fall back into treating me the way they used to treat me when I was a kid home for summer hols." He follows Teddy out of the pub. "I guess that’s just how it is. That’s why people say you can never go back home, I guess."

Teddy flinches as the cold air blows in his face.

"Well," James says, "you _can_ go back. But it's not the same."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Teddy gets an owl from Nettles calling him to Level Nine. His heart speeds as he reads the brief letter, and he doesn't know if it's from relief or apprehension or what.

He feels shady, pocketing the letter and telling Harry and Ginny vaguely that he has a meeting. He tries to adopt a journalist-like demeanour about the whole thing, but the only thing he knows about journalists is how much Harry hates Rita Skeeter and what he saw in _All the President's Men_. He doesn't feel much like Dustin Hoffman, but he hopes for the best and Floos to the Ministry.

Imelda doesn't give him trouble this time, just waves him through, calling, "In Conference Room Three, Unspeakable Lupin."

Teddy winces—Conference Room Three is large, layered with enough privacy and confidentiality charms to use for top-secret meetings related to things like interfering with Muggle nuclear weapons, or Auror–Unspeakable plots.

When he opens the door, his worries are confirmed. The Minister for Magic is there, as well as Nettles and Rufus (may Hecate protect them all from Rufus's inane comments); Saul Croaker, head of Time; Shruthi Haradas, head of Time-Travel; Ira Roberts, head of Death; Teddy’s boss, Farzad Tajik, head of Magi-Cosmos; and Kingsley fucking Shacklebolt.

"Dr Granger," Teddy says, uncertain about how to proceed.

Hermione, as he's always known her from gatherings at Harry and Draco's house, is serious, and confused as she leans forward. "Teddy," she greets, shaking his hand. "I'm not a doctor."

Teddy's eyebrows shoot up. "But you're…you're Minister for Magic, right?" His eyes flit to Shacklebolt, who is sitting at the table with his arms clasped in front of him.

"Yes," she says. Her unruffled bearing suggests that she's been briefed about what's going on, but Shacklebolt looks confused.

Teddy nods, pulling a chair out with a scrape and trying not to pay attention to everyone watching him with undisguised curiosity.

Nettles waves his wand and a quill appears in the air, poised to write. At this action, everyone turns to him expectantly, ready for the meeting to begin.

"Thank you for coming," he says; his gruff voice is familiar, but it still sets Teddy on edge. "The Department of Mysteries is taking this situation with the utmost seriousness, so we appreciate the attendance of our current and past ministers." He stops to nod at Hermione and Shacklebolt.

As he speaks, the quill scratches away in the air, leaving a silvery trail of magic behind its tip, but no words. The record will be accessible by people with clearance through a spoken charm, but will not exist on any physical record.

"The situation is this. The Department of Mysteries has begun a round of research on the theory of the multiverse, with the aim of determining the feasibility of inter-universal travel."

Shacklebolt sits back in his chair; the look on his face suggests reproach. Shacklebolt has always been skeptical of the Unspeakables' more ambitious, far-reaching projects, especially those that could be risky. Theoretical scientific advancement does not outweigh tangible risks, in his view. The end of his tenure at the Ministry had been met with relief on Level Nine. All of which makes his attendance here, now, the more remarkable.

"Teddy Lupin," Nettles continues, and everyone turns to look at him, "born 1998, son of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, godson of Harry Potter. He was raised by his grandmother, Andromeda Tonks, after his parents were killed fighting valiantly at the Battle of Hogwarts."

Teddy swallows.

"Mr Lupin finished school and went into journalism. He moved to Australia in 2021, where he settled in the magical community in Melbourne. He married Brianna Jones in 2024. He works at _The Lumos_."

Teddy wonders if anyone else realises this is the first he's hearing most of that information.

Nettles raps his fingers on the table. "Mr Lupin hasn't been back to England since summer 2025, a year and a bit ago, when he visited the Potter and Weasley families and various friends from school."

He waves his wand and a world map appears on the wall. He zooms in on one section. "This is Melbourne. The Lupins live here."

_The Lupins_ sounds really strange to Teddy's ears, given that his mum resolutely will not allow anyone to call her and Remus that. "The Lupin-Tonkses," she always corrects. "Or Tonks-Lupins. We're not picky."

A purple dot appears near the word _Lilydale._

__"Mr Lupin's work is here." A yellow dot appears near the word _Southbank._ "And Mr Lupin," he waves his wand again, "is here." A blue dot lights at the purple dot, pulsing slightly.

Teddy squirms in his seat at Nettles’s theatrics.

"This man," Nettles gestures at Teddy, "came into my office and told me he is Teddy Lupin. And that he is an Unspeakable.” He pauses. “In a parallel universe."

For a moment, no one speaks.

"And have we checked him for spells?" Rufus asks, like they’re all idiots. "Polyjuice?"

Nettles nods. "Of course. He passed all tests; his magical signature matches the Ministry registry for Teddy Lupin. He knew my security question."

"Where did he arrive?" Haradas asks.

"In Harry Potter's garden," Teddy answers, speaking up for the first time.

"Hence," Nettles sighs, "the reason we've assembled this group to discuss the issue. We do not know the exact differences between our universe and Unspeakable Lupin's universe, and we do not know what crisis points are involved. But where Harry Potter is involved, we need to be extra careful. Tampering with the course of Harry Potter's life is, obviously, a dangerous proposition."

"Why, exactly?" Shacklebolt says, cutting straight to the point.

"Because we don't know the effects of inter-universal travel," Haradas says. "It's never been done. What if there is a chance of going back in time when we travel between universes? It’s all connected, of course, with the space-time continuum, and we have no idea how to manipulate it and have control over the parameters of the travel. We need to proceed with utmost caution."

"You’re wrong," Tajik counters. "Inter-universal travel has not ‘never been done.’ It's never been _proven._ We at least suspect it's been done. You know that the Barstaple and Malyns cases—"

"Barstaple and Malyns were two sandwiches short of a picnic!" Haradas snaps.

Teddy only just refrains from rolling his eyes at their one-upmanship.

"Excuse me," Hermione says, her voice cold and authoritative. "Professor Tajik, can you give us an idea of possible outcomes?"

"It's all speculation, of course," he begins.

"No one is going to blame you if the worst happens, Farzad," Croaker says. "Just tell us."

"We simply don't know. Possibly nothing. Possibly it will be similar to the consequences of time-travel." Great, Tajik is being pedantic.

"Spell it out for an old Auror, will you?" Shacklebolt asks.

Haradas speaks quickly, presumably not wanting anyone else to give an explanation about her area of expertise. "Time-travel to the past can irreparably change the future, which is to say, our past. If I was to travel to 31 October 1981, in hopes of killing Voldemort before he could arrive at the Potters', I might do something that led to Harry Potter dying, and Voldemort being in power in 2026. If I were to travel through time back to when I'd left, I would find nothing as I'd left it."

"Also—" Tajik starts, but Haradas cuts him off.

"Moreover, if a time traveller sees a version of their past or future self, they often go crazy and end up murdering their other self. There are at least fifty confirmed cases of—"

"Yes, yes," Nettles says. "Tajik, what do you think could be different about cases of inter-universal travel? Mr Lupin, you haven't travelled in time, have you?"

"No, sir, displacement in location and in universe," he answers promptly.

"It is possible," Tajik says, and he runs a shaky hand through his hair. " _Possible_ , mind you, I do not think it likely, that knowledge crossing universal planes—knowledge of what is happening on another plane—could cause a logarithmic entropy increase, or a gravitational singularity."

Hermione frowns. "Meaning what, exactly?"

"It could violate the normal laws of physics that operate in each distinct universe, including conservation of information. Entropy and information are related by a conservation law, where a gain of information leads to a loss of entropy. Which means that information transfer from one universe to another would affect the entropy of the multiverse."

Haradas leans her cheek on her hand. "We've been over this. It depends on the bounds of the closed system. That law only operates within a closed, or isolated system, but if the system isn't our universe alone—"

"But you're both overlooking the other risk," Croaker says, and his age makes him seem like he's scolding students. "Every universe must have a unique past and future. Each universe that exists, distinguished by their divergence at crisis points, must evolve backwards to the same point in time of minimal entropy. Otherwise, the—"

Hermione holds up a hand, quelling the back-and-forth. "Teddy," she says. "What do you think?" Every eye in the room turns to look at him.

Truthfully, he thinks they each have a point, though they are putting on an act of talking past each other. But they're leaving out one thing. "I think you're forgetting," he says carefully, not wanting to step on any toes because in this universe he has no professional history with these people, no built-up trust and respect, "that this is no longer theoretical speculation. We _have_ a data point: I am here."

Tajik inclines his head, conceding the point. One thing Teddy has always appreciated about Unspeakables is that they are willing to concede points.

Their eyes all find Teddy's. A moment of silent understanding passes around the room as they all seem to realise that they, as a group, have the first opportunity to make breakthroughs in understanding how the multiverse works.

"I think we all realise the utmost importance of discretion," Nettles says, leaning on his hands. "No one can know about this. But, as Unspeakable Lupin points out, he's here, and I've known he's here, and he's known he's here, and that information has not had any negative effects so far. So we need to research this, figure out how to get him back, and do everything in our power to contain the information transfer between universes."

A nod travels through the room.

"In that case," Nettles says, turning to Teddy, "you may now tell us everything about the jump. _Everything._ "

Teddy takes a breath and starts the story in as much detail as possible, starting with the Samhain gathering at the Manor. He doesn't mention the people who had been there with him, knowing that Hermione, especially, doesn't need to know that Teddy's Harry is with Draco. But he recounts the rest of the story in full, knowing that information about this universe's Potter family is important. He tells them that the Potter children don't exist in his universe, and that he's met two of them, but he doesn't think they have an inkling that Teddy isn't Teddy. He tells them that he's concerned about having changed the course of the other Teddy's relationship with the Potters, but he leaves out the part where he gets inappropriate erections because of James.

When he finishes his tale, there's a long stretch of silence as his words sink in.

It's Roberts, from Death, who speaks first. "Well, I hope we don't have to wait until next Samhain to get him back to his universe."

Teddy tenses. _What?_

__"Explain," Nettles snaps.

"Well, the spell that Unspeakable Lupin incanted referenced the Veil, crossing the veil of the world? Something along those lines. And what's Samhain? The day with the thinnest Veil."

"But that's the Veil between life and death!" Tajik counters.

"Yes," Roberts says, raising an eyebrow. "And it seems as if we've just established that the Veil between life and death is somehow related to crossing to otherworlds."

Teddy suddenly sits up straight. "Shit."

"Enlighten us, Unspeakable Lupin," Nettles says, no patience for vague cursing.

Teddy leans over, pulls his bag onto his lap, and grabs the files inside. "Barstaple," Teddy says, opening the file. "Disappeared first of May." He puts that file at the back of the pile. "Malyns. Appeared first of November. Hancock. Last seen Monday thirty-first of October."

"Shit," Haradas whispers.

"Samhain, Beltane." Roberts nods. "The question is, does it _have_ to be on those dates, or does that just make it more likely?"

Tajik doesn't seem to hear, interrupting. "Hancock. What about Hancock? Who is this Hancock in your file?"

"Oh," Teddy says. "Right. In my universe, an Unspeakable named Bev Hancock disappeared around Samhain 2016. The Unspeakables investigated, but couldn’t find a trace of them."

"How long has Bev been with our department?" Nettles asks, turning to Croaker. Croaker shrugs, but Haradas pulls out a magi-tablet and types; a moment later she says, "Since December 2016."

"Well," Tajik sighs. "That's….coincidental. Should we call them in?"

Nettles stands and heaves open a file cabinet, rummaging through until he pulls out a file with Bev’s photo on the front. He points his wand at the file, then at the map on the wall where the dots still pulse with the Lupinses locations in Australia. Teddy realises Nettles has recorded the information on Bev’s magical signature from the file and is using it to pinpoint geolocation. A blue dot appears in London, and Nettles’s eyes scan the map. “Only one dot. If Hancock had travelled to this universe, wouldn’t there be two?” But it’s clear he’s talking to himself again and no one answers.

Nettles presses his lips together, rapping his sausage-like fingers on the table. "No…no. Let's research this before we confront Hancock. We need to look up their birth records, I suppose. The most urgent question is whether we can send Unspeakable Lupin back to stay with the Potters."

It feels like he poured a bucket of ice down Teddy's back. "Sir?"

"It's dangerous for you to be with them. You must realise that."

"Well, yes," Teddy says, not prepared for the emotion he feels at the prospect of being torn away from the Potters, who have been his anchor since he's been here. "But—"

"Do they seem suspicious of you at all?" Nettles asks.

"No," Teddy says, stopping after he's answered to consider whether that's true. The Potters don't seem to suspect anything, though. Things there are fairly chaotic, and the other Teddy hasn't been around them much lately, so they don't have a proximate frame of reference for his behaviour. James, in particular, seems hopeful and eager for the friendship. Teddy's chest feels tight as he elaborates: "I have had fairly intensive interaction with Harry, Ginny, and James, and to a lesser extent, with Albus and Scorpius Malfoy, who were visiting my first weekend here. No one has given any indication that they suspect something is amiss. They seem happy to see me. I think they assume...er, that I’m having marital problems. The sense I get…is that they wish they saw me more. If I was to disappear now…what would they do? They'd send letters to Australia, at the very least."

"We need to monitor their post and Floo," Haradas declares.

"Indeed," Nettles agrees. "Get me the form and I'll sign off on it today."

"Sir," Shacklebolt intervenes. "Don't you need a warrant for that? The Potters haven't done anything to justify that loss of privacy."

"It seems you're confusing the Department of Mysteries with the Auror Department, Minister," Nettles answers, and though his voice is calm, his face gleams with challenge. "The Department of Mysteries has completely sovereignty on issues affecting the space-time continuum."

Hermione pinches her nose and holds up a hand.

"Unspeakable Nettles," she says, thinking, "is it possible to set the Floo to malfunction over international borders? Harry doesn't Floo anyone else outside the country. Then it would seem like a glitch and we can blame it on the FNA."

Teddy breathes a sigh of relief: the Floo Network Authority is universally hated, so this is a solution that will harm no one.

Nettles nods. "Yes. We do that all the time; I'll talk to Sally in FNA this afternoon."

"And the post?" Hermione asks. "How can we protect Harry and Ginny's privacy while preventing and moderating correspondence with the other Teddy Lupin?"

Nettles waves his hand, apparently completely unconcerned with the prospect of invading the privacy of Harry Potter. "We have ways of monitoring based on recipient. We can intercept letters from the other Teddy to the Potters and adjust them to make sure they don't contradict, and the same with letters from the Potters to Teddy."

Teddy feels sick, but he adds, "And Albus and Scorpius. And Lily Potter at Hogwarts."

"Is this _legal_?" Shacklebolt hisses.

Nettles nods. "It's all quite by-the-book, as it's necessary for the smooth functioning of our universe. The Wizengamot has supported actions like these in cases of time-travel, and there is no meaningful conceptual distinction between the legal status of time-travel and the legal status of universe-travel."

Tajik and Croaker nod, but Teddy's stomach churns; he feels seasick. Fuck. The Potters, Harry, Ginny, James, are his _people_. They love him. They trust him. He loves them, and he's…

Shacklebolt leans forward and menaces, "And would you be willing to say that, so blasé, to Harry Potter's face? Will you feel so confident defending this, if he ever finds out?"

"He won't," Nettles says, and Teddy flinches. Everyone always underestimates Harry, and they are always wrong.

"Look," Hermione says, sighing. "I don't like it. I'd rather not know anything about how my best friend is involved in a situation like this, and I'd rather he could live quietly, out of trouble, forever. But that's never been a possibility for Harry. We protect the stability of the multiverse first, and we do it in a way that infringes on the Potters' privacy as little as possible. Once this is over…" She hesitates, but holds firm. "We can assess whether we need to involve the Obliviators."

It's...unthinkable. The memory of Teddy, erased from James's mind forever— Teddy's hand shakes as he reaches into his robe pocket, wraps jittery fingers around his wand, and casts the calming charm that will leach the cortisol from his body, making him feel calm even as the absence of pain seems to take with it his humanness. He can't…he can't _not_ numb himself.

Able to breathe again, Teddy forces air deep into his diaphragm. "What about the Time-Travel Receptivity Assessment?"

Haradas tilts her head, curious. "That's interesting."

"Can someone explain in plain English, please?" Shacklebolt asks.

Haradas says, "The Time-Travel Receptivity Assessment, or TTRA, is a forty-item instrument used to gauge an individual's ability to withstand the psychological stress associated with meeting a time-displaced counterpart or relation."

Teddy wonders if the others can tell that Shacklebolt is losing his patience. The man repeats, "In…plain…English."

"If I may, sir," Teddy says, eager to save Shacklebolt from the jargon-muddled competition of his colleagues. "Sometimes, when the department determines that the benefits of time-travel outweigh the risks, there is a chance of encounter between a person and their past or future self, or their spouse's past or future self, or a friend or parent. Many people cannot cope with this. It throws their system into shock and ends up threatening the entire mission."

Shacklebolt is unamused.

"We can use the TTRA," Teddy continues, "to determine, with a high level of accuracy, whether a person can withstand such a stress. Unspeakables must pass the TTRA as part of the screening to be admitted into Unspeakable training. Most people do not pass it. Less than twenty percent of people pass the TTRA. But what it means is that, if I were to run into a past or present version of myself, I would probably be able to cope with it, rather than killing my counterpart or going into shock or whatever."

"Assuming the appropriate procedures are followed by your time-travelling counterpart," Haradas adds. "Acceptance of the incongruity is much higher if the time-traveller follows evidence-based procedures."

"I was wondering," Teddy adds, a nervous feeling bubbling up in his chest despite the calming charm he'd cast a few minutes prior, "if we would consider administering the TTRA to the Potters. Then we could be more open with them. They are, after all, famously strong in both body and mind."

"Have you lost your mind, boy?" Nettles snaps, his face turning red. "We aren't certain what will happen with even the smallest bit of information contamination! And you think we're going to approve, what, just sitting them down and wilfully giving them information that could cause a universe-threatening incongruity?!"

Teddy's chest falls. It was worth a try.

"No," Nettles says, shaking his head so hard that Teddy worries the man is going to send spittle flying on Hermione. "No. Here's what we're going to do. We send Teddy back to the Potters to avoid arousing suspicion, unless there is any evidence that they suspect something is going on. Unspeakable Lupin, can you handle this job? Or do we need to send a Polyjuiced agent?"

"Wha—No!" Teddy huffs. "There's no way a Polyjuiced person would be able to do that without an enormous amount of briefing, plus having a non-metamorphmagus Polyjuice into a metamorphmagus is not a good idea. Even if the skill transfers, they don't know how to manage it. No. I can do it. I am the person for the job."

"Alright," Nettles concedes. "You will _lay low._ Go out during the day, saying you need to work. Stay out of the wizarding public. Do not tell them about your universe. Do not interfere with the course of this universe. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir." Teddy feels a dead weight in his stomach.

"Good. Rufus, I want you researching everything we know about the potion that spilled on Lupin, Avicissitudinem, and universes. Croaker, I want you to look into metamorphmagi and the multiverse. See if there is any evidence of the condition—"

Teddy's ears start to ring. Great, now they're talking about him like he's a diagnosis rather than a person sitting right here.

"Roberts, I want you to look into the thinness of the Veil and how it relates to non-death otherworlds. Shruthi, I want you to look at other factors that might affect inter-universal displacement. Alcohol consumption, other potions or drugs." Nettles stops, turns to Teddy. "Were you on anything else? Hallucinogenics?"

"What? No!" Teddy snaps. "Just alcohol."

"Farzad, I want you to look into what's going on with Bev Hancock. We don't want to spook them, but if they've travelled here from Unspeakable Lupin's universe…well, we need to get information out of them."

"What about me, sir?" Teddy asks.

Nettles leans forward, his pudgy hands pressing into the table. "You will do _nothing._ It is dangerous for you to even be here. You have one job: don't arouse suspicion."

Teddy leaves the Ministry without speaking. His hand grasps his wand tightly, and he accidentally shoots a spark at his foot. Scowling at it, he stalks to the lift and away from the bureaucratic nonsense. He's supposed to be a _theoretical researcher._ This is a nightmare.

***

Teddy's heart beats quickly as he sits down at the Potters' large kitchen table that evening with a stack of parchment and quill. He dips his quill in an ink pot and starts scratching away.

"What're you doing?" James says within a few minutes, grabbing an apple and crunching into it as he flops into the chair next to Teddy.

Teddy swallows down a small amount of guilt he feels at being manipulative, but truthfully, he doesn't feel too guilty. He wants to be able to tell these people the truth, eventually, especially if he’s stuck here for awhile. He wants to be able to be honest with James, to be able to build their friendship, to build their whatever the fuck it is that Teddy knows they are—or at least have the possibility of becoming—even if he has no idea how to deal with it yet.

"It's a Time-Travel Receptivity Assessment," Teddy says. "I'm researching it for a story. Did you know that the Unspeakables have a way of assessing whether people can handle the stress of encountering a time-traveller?"

"Wicked," James says. "I want to take it."

Making an effort to breathe deeply, Teddy Duplicates the TTRA and hands the second copy to James.

James Summons a quill and starts filling in the form. Teddy tries to concentrate on his form, but he's a fucking mess and can barely get his answers onto the paper. He keeps glancing over at James's form, trying to catch a bit of what James is writing, but he can't glean much from the glimpses he gets. He feels like this is important somehow, that James pass the screening.

When Teddy finishes, he watches as his answers disappear into the parchment, and a score appears. He stares at it in disbelief: he's failed. He's scored a 39. The highest passing score is a 20; the lower the better. When he took it before, he got a 17.

"I failed." He feels detached from the experience, like he can't believe that this is his life. Was he _that_ distracted?

James's tongue is visible between his lips, his concentration affecting his entire body. James does nothing halfway, so Teddy isn't sure why he's surprised, but he's never seen James put that energy of his into something so still, so dry.

Teddy watches as James finishes and his writing disappears.

> _James Sirius Potter has passed the screening tool with a score of 11._

Teddy realises he hasn't been breathing and sucks in a lungful of air. That's—

James turns and flashes a cocky grin, punching the air. "Wooooo!"

Teddy can't help but smile back at him.

"DAD!" James calls, pushing his chair back. "I'M ALLOWED TO TIME TRAVEL!"

"That is—not how this works," Teddy says, still grinning.

"Shhhh," James instructs, and Teddy laughs.

Harry walks into the room, reading what looks like a case file. "What, Jamie?"

"Oh nothing," James crows, "I've just been cleared for time travel."

"He passed the Time-Travel Receptivity Assessment," Teddy explains. "It's used to determine whether a person could handle the stress of encountering a time-traveller or something."

Teddy is half expecting Harry to ask why the fuck they're at his kitchen table taking the TTRA, but Harry just plops down and holds out a hand. "Well then, let me take it. Gin! Get in here and see if we could be time-travellers!"

Ginny comes into the room and before long they're each filling out the form. You have to love how game the Potters are for anything.

As they fill out the forms, James teases, "I can't believe I passed and you failed. Like, you just aren't cut out for temporal adventures, Teds, sorry."

Teddy laughs. " _Temporal adventures_?"

"I'll have you know that I'm very smart," James says. "People always forget that, because I play Quidditch. But I know how to like, make 'time' into an adjective."

"I've never doubted your intelligence," Teddy says, and James grins.

Harry and Ginny finish their forms, and Teddy watches as their faces fall.

"Wow, you lot all failed that spectacularly," James says, leaning to look over their shoulders.

Ginny frowns at the sheet. "Looks like it. Although, that's probably accurate. I don't think I would do well if someone from the past or future appeared."

"They'd be lucky to get away with only a Bat-Bogey," Harry agreed. "Oh well. I could've told you I am not cut out for time-travel. Once was enough, and I always wonder…" Harry's eyes take on a faraway look, and Teddy's chest aches for Harry, who will never escape the ghosts of the war no matter what universe he's in, and for himself, because this Harry has scored a 74 on the TTRA and Teddy will, definitively, never be able to tell him the truth.

Teddy turns to look at James, who is rummaging through a cupboard looking for a DVD of _Back to the Future_ and speculating on where he can find a DeLorean. Teddy can't decide if he's surprised or not that James, with his intensity and determined, stable personality, passed the TTRA.

"James," Harry sighs, "Time-Turners are made out of little necklaces, not cars."

James waves his hand dismissively, holds up the DVD, and grabs Teddy's hand to pull him into the sitting room to watch the film. Teddy lets himself be pulled.

***

Halfway through the film, Ginny sticks her head in to say that she and Harry are heading out to meet Ron and Hermione for dinner. As Teddy hears the Floo roar, he's overcome with a strange mixture of emotions about being home alone with James. On the one hand, it feels right, and normal, and he's more comfortable than he's been in ages. When he hangs out with his friends at home, it’s often a bit awkward. They feel intimidated that he’s an Unspeakable; he feels like a third wheel or something. On the other hand, he is discomposed because now there's no outside influence around to automatically keep his reactions to James in check. He cannot let on to James that he fancies him. _Get your shit together, Lupin,_ he thinks, _You need to lock this shit down._ Nettles would kill him, but it's also—just _wrong._ James thinks Teddy is like his brother. James thinks Teddy is a married man. No, it is Teddy's burden to keep it under wraps.

"Do you think I'd look good in that?" James asks, apparently on a mission to make this harder.

Teddy tears his eyes away from James and looks at the screen. "In that…padded gilet?"

"Yeah."

"Umm." Teddy isn't sure how to answer. "I think you know you look good in anything."

James smiles, and Teddy can't tell if he's blushing or if that's an odd reflection from the glow of the telly. "Well, yeah. But I still have to choose what clothes to wear, and that red gilet would be a bit of a bold choice. It strikes me as very Gryffindorish fashion."

Teddy laughs. "I used to have a blue one." He freezes, realising that he probably shouldn't talk about clothes he used to own in a different universe.

James waves his wand to pause the film, then sits up straight, a shit-eating grin on his face. "You," he says. "Owned a gilet. Tell me everything."

He wishes he could tell James about it. That when he was like twelve Jack Wills gilets were all the rage among his Muggle friends and he'd begged his parents to buy him one even though they were expensive, and his mum had tried at first to convince him it was too rah and wouldn't he rather wear his dad's vintage 70s suede jacket? But Teddy was at the age where he wanted to _fit in_ , and they bought him a blue one that he wore everywhere for a couple years before he realised that no, he _didn't_ want to fit in at all. He was a wizard and a metamorphmagus for Merlin's sake—fitting in was definitely _not_ for him and he would wear his turquoise hair and wizarding band t-shirts and almost flout the Statute of Secrecy every single fucking day!

In this world he probably hadn't had a Jack Wills gilet. He wonders if he'd even had Muggle friends, or attended Muggle primary school.

"They were popular right after I started Hogwarts," Teddy says. "It's not a big thing. You should definitely get a red one, and some of those trainers, too." He points at the telly.

James laughs, apparently content to drop the subject of gilets, but Teddy is left feeling incomplete. Something about James makes Teddy want to tell him everything, to grab a bottle of Firewhiskey and sit up all night telling stories. About gilets. About universe hopping. But he can't. He'd lose his job, at the very least. And even though James passed the TTRA, there's no telling how he'd actually react. He remembers the case they studied in Unspeakable training about Ugrupius Short, who passed the TTRA but murdered his time-travelling wife and had to spend the rest of his life on the Janus Thickey ward.

"You're easy to talk to," Teddy blurts, wincing internally but knowing it's better than blurting _I'm from another universe and I fancy you!_

__James's smile falters into amused confusion, and this time Teddy is pretty sure he's not imagining a blush. "Uh, thanks? Is that a new observation?"

Shit. "Well, no. Does everyone always tell you everything?"

"Not really,” James says. “Scorpius is the one who gets everyone's life stories. Before you got to the Halloween party I overheard Uncle Percy talking to Scorp about his struggle to accept Molly's new girlfriend. Poor Scorp looked like he'd rather be talking about anything else."

Teddy laughs at the image, surprised at how attached he's grown to all of Harry's and Draco's children. Scorpius is an incredible person, and Teddy finds himself aching with wanting to see him interact with Draco. But then his chest tightens: Scorpius's dad isn't Teddy's Draco.

"Well, I haven't felt the need to blather on to Scorpius,” Teddy says, “but you make me want to talk about everything."

James's eyes flash with something strange, but it's gone quickly, covered with an affectedly arrogant grin. "Must just be you, then, who finds me so compelling."

Teddy's heart beats hard in his chest and _shit,_ this is not the conversation he is meant to be having.

The thing is, James is right. Teddy _does_ find him compelling, and he's not even sure why. Maybe it's the easy acceptance, the flowing conversation, the unabashed silliness. Maybe it's his brash confidence and breezy joie de vivre. Maybe it's _let's go rock climbing._ Maybe it's the way that Teddy feels James knows him, somehow sees deep into his soul, recognising but accepting all Teddy's weird issues and idiosyncrasies, right to his core. It's a sense Teddy associates with family, but his family gets him in a way that's one step removed—from another generation—while James is right there with him.

He needs to say something. "Er, tell me what happened with Mathias."

James sighs, throwing a leg up onto Teddy's lap and reclining. "Okay, so, like everything was wrong with him, I think. But we were sitting at the table eating takeaway curry, and he eats his naan really slowly. So I was done with mine, right? And I still had all this chicken jalfrezi, and I was hungry! And he did _not_ have a lot of curry left, but he had all this naan."

Teddy stares at James, feeling daft about it but completely enamoured with this man.

"So I took a piece of his naan and I'm eating it, right? And I look up and he's just staring at me and he looks super peeved so I'm like, 'Alright?' and he proceeds to lecture me for like five minutes about table manners and how I shouldn't steal his naan. And I'm sitting there mentally calculating how many calories I burned at practice that day and thinking about how fucking hungry I am and how I had even made sure his naan-to-curry ratio was good before I took his bloody naan, and I'm thinking, this is supposed to be a _relationship_. We're supposed to be sharing our lives, and you can't even share your fucking naan?"

Teddy, whose amusement has been building, bursts into delighted laughter. "So what did you do?"

"So he's sitting there waiting for some kind of apology or some shit, and I slowly take the naan out of my mouth, hand it back to him, and I say—" James starts to laugh. "I say, 'Here's your naan. Get the fuck out of my flat, we're through.' And his mouth dropped, like it literally dropped, and he starts telling me how I can't seriously be breaking up with him because of naan, and I was like, 'Watch me, you fucking wanker.'" James grins, then wrinkles his nose. "It went downhill from there."

Teddy bends forward with the force of his laughter, James's gripping story-telling combined with the ridiculous tale making him burn with amusement. But beyond amusement, with admiration for this man who knows what he wants, for realising that the naan isn't just naan.

"Well," Teddy says, wiping a tear from his eye. "You know what you want. No one can ever accuse you otherwise."

James laughs, kicking his foot into Teddy's thigh. "Don't laugh at me."

Teddy tries to stop laughing. "Naan is important. You deserve someone who will let you have as much naan as you want, Jamie. We should get like four orders of naan."

James stares at Teddy for a second, then turns away. "We should finish the film." He waves his wand, and Teddy's stomach drops. What did he say wrong?

"Wait a minute, Doc," Marty McFly says. "Are you trying to tell me that my mother has got the hots for me?"

Teddy can't stop looking at James.

"Whoa. This is heavy."

***

After Teddy finishes the film with an oddly quiet James, he retreats to Lily's room, grabbing a "communal laptop" from the kitchen that Harry had said he could borrow.

He doesn't have credentials to log into KNOWMAG, the Unspeakable database, so he's stuck with Google like the rest of the masses. He spares a grumbling thought for the injustice of putting knowledge behind a paywall and types in a question that's been bothering him since he watched Marty McFly's DeLorean careen from the parking lot of the Twin Pines Mall into the field of the Peabody farm: "multiverse theory physical displacement."

Why hadn't Teddy landed in this universe's version of his flat, which would have, admittedly, been occupied by someone else? Why had he landed in the Potter's garden?

The first hit—"Multiverse Cosmological Models and the Unity of Physical Law"—has the tiny Ministry logo that indicates it's a website that's hidden from Muggles.

Teddy leans back on Lily's many colourful pillows and skims the article. Time passes, and he enters a strange research mindset where he only vaguely processes the sounds of Harry and Ginny arriving home and James brushing his teeth in the hall bathroom. He skims through three articles, finding not much of interest; he currently knows more about travelling between universes than any of the authors of these articles. And he knows almost nothing, so that's reassuring.

In the fourth article, though, he finds a section titled, "On physical laws and inter-universe incongruity minimisation." He pulls a notebook from his bag and Summons a pen from Lily's desk. A green glitter pen soars through the air to his outstretched hand and he starts taking notes.

_Physical laws are widely thought to be stable and consistent across universes; if one universe is subject to the law of gravity such that gravitational force between two objects (as a type of magical connection) is proportional to the product of the two masses, and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them, then that is true in all possible parallel universes_. _But the magic required to access and interact with otherworlds may take unexpected form from the perspective of the laws and expectations observed in a single universe. The hypothetical magic involved to interact between worlds is thus mediated by competing priorities: on the one hand, to preserve the unity of physical and magical laws between the universes, and on the other hand, to minimise the universal incongruities the magic will cause. If an act of magic accesses another universe, the magic involved will avoid dangerous, multiverse-threatening effects. For example, it has been theorised since at least 1610, when Werner Podmore wrote_ Magickal Cosmos, _that a hypothetical wizard traveling between universes might experience a physical displacement unexplainable except when viewed through the lens of incongruity minimisation. Ceteris paribus, a universe-traveler should land in the exact location where he left the other universe, but if landing there would cause a dangerous incongruity, the magic involved in his universal displacement would likely deposit him in a different location that wouldn't cause (as much) incongruity. (This is, of course, within limits, as a person could not be deposited so far from their point of departure as to effect a Gorheim Slough.) As such, we see that physical laws are in this case not as certain as one might…_

__Teddy looks up. So if this article is to be believed, his landing in Harry's garden has to do with minimising potential disruption to the multiverse. But _why?_ Wouldn't the most likely way to accomplish that be to send him somewhere abandoned? An empty alley? The middle of a forest?

Teddy rubs his eyes, wishing he understood any of this.

The rest of the article is useless, waffling on without saying anything. He clicks on another link, annoyed at this research because he knows all the really good stuff is in the Unspeakable database rather than publicly available to any non-Muggle with an internet connection. But when he'd been doing his preliminary multiverse research with his Unspeakable clearance, he'd not been looking for this specific type of information, so he has to hope that he’ll find some useful information.

A few articles later, his eyes glazing over in the face of block after block of unhelpful text that is somehow both dense and vapid, Teddy finally finds information that gets to the issue, buried a few dozen pages into an article:

_Most types of physical displacement are based on magical energy linked with a fixed location. In Apparition, "destination" is a fixed place in space, not something that can move around. One can Apparate to a friend's house, but not to the friend. Portkey travel utilises charmwork that requires a specific location destination as an input. It is theorised, however, that inter-universal magic, including the hypothetical possibility of inter-universal travel, cannot rely on_ location _in the same way. This is because the concept of_ location _in one universe does not map onto the concept of location in another universe. One cannot Apparate to another universe in part because one cannot, by definition, visualise the destination. As such, theoretical models show that_ location _, when applied to inter-universal magic, must not refer to a strictly physical location, or what the Muggles would call latitude and longitude. Rather, it is suspected that inter-universal location is best thought of as a magical_ vector _pointing not to a specific point in space but rather to a theoretical place that can better map between universes. For example, inter-universal magic, by all accounts, would refer not to a specific house (as in '521 Weatherby Lane, Bath') but rather to the meaning behind a place (as in 'the home of Herbert Crowley')._

__Teddy lies back, his head slamming into Lily's headboard. Fuck. It's obvious now. He shouldn't have needed all this research to realise. He'd been at home, in his flat, when he made the jump here. And he'd landed in this universe at the Potters' house—the closest thing to a home he has in England.

***

Teddy dreams of home. He dreams of his dad in the tweed armchair, surrounded by floating student parchments, quill scratching away as he marks their work. He dreams of his mum cleaning the house while listening to the most perplexing array of Muggle and wizarding music blasted at loud volume, belting, "Now I'm falling asleep, and she's calling a cab! While he's having a smoke, and she's taking a drag!" And his dad calls, "cab doesn't rhyme with drag" with a smile on his face, and dream Teddy laughs from the sofa. He dreams of Harry and Draco coming to his parents' for Sunday brunch, Draco with a basket of his famous muffins and Harry carrying champagne and pumpkin juice (his favourite brunch cocktail). Teddy dreams of sitting alone in his flat, working, feeling vaguely unsettled because everyone around him is pairing off and growing up and he has no desire to, just a niggling feeling that maybe something's not quite right.

He wakes, disoriented.

His chest aches with missing his family. For the first time he lets himself wonder: what if he can never get back? What if, like Agnes Malyns and Lawrence Barstaple, he'll be in this otherworld for the rest of his life?

His parents and grandmother and Harry and Draco must be beside themselves with worry, and if he never reappears—what? Eventually they'll move on with their lives, their world the same but for a Teddy-shaped absence. At least they're all accustomed to loss, it will be par for the course for them, really. They'll remember him next Samhain, only he won't be dead.

Teddy groans, disgusted at himself for entertaining such maudlin thoughts. This isn't who he is. He's an upbeat, sometimes impulsive, motivated person. He doesn't want to wallow.

Even if a small part of him is internally screaming, "I want my mum and dad!" like a homesick first-year.

Teddy sits up, trying to make out the jumble of noises he hears coming from the rest of the house.

It's so different here, in this world, in the house and family Harry shares with Ginny. It's loud—music audible even upstairs and down the corridor, the sound of banging cupboards and clattering kitchenware. But that's not that different from home, where his mum is forever banging into things and listening to Joy Division while she tries to spell stains out of her Auror robes. No, it's a subtler difference, a difference in energy—here the house thrums with youth. The Potter house is filled with a buzzy, eager sort of magic and aura that only comes from young people. As Teddy has grown, his parents' house has lost that feeling. And Harry and Draco's house has never had it. But here—Lily's room tingles with effervescent magic that makes Teddy want to laugh and dance, Albus's room prickles with a determined magic that hasn't lost its youthful optimism (no matter how much Albus might try to affect a pessimistic demeanour). James's room—and anywhere James is, really—pulses with an exuberant magic that makes Teddy want to _do things,_ makes him want to _try things_ , makes him want to _live._

__It's not better or worse, but it's different, and the feeling of home that had enveloped Teddy in his dream—the feeling of stability, establishment, safety, the feeling of sure and patient magical energy that is as strong as it is stalwart—evaporates, and he misses it. He misses it even as he's drawn out of bed and downstairs to where James is banging around the kitchen.

James turns, his hair sleep-tousled and his freckles visible on his sheet-creased cheek. His eyes are sparkly with excitement and a bottle of buttermilk bobs in the air next to his head. "Teddy! I'm going to make some muffins! What kind do you want? I was thinking maybe some carrot and ginger, yeah?"

Teddy blinks, a small smile creasing his lips. "Sounds good. But, coffee."

He's still half asleep, thinking of how his parents make a large pot of coffee first thing every morning, how they would never begin an impromptu muffin project before the coffee was made and the kitchen tidied, how Remus's Levitation Charm would not result in a bobbing bottle of buttermilk, but rather a still, floating bottle. The awareness of just how _old_ his family from home is—how they rely on routines and magical precision to exert control over their messy, war-battered pasts—hurts, and the juxtaposition to James couldn't be more stark.

James grins, jerking his head toward the magicK cup. "Fuck, you're so old. Like Dad claiming he can't do anything in the morning until he has at least one cup of something caffeinated." He raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Teddy can't help but laugh. He doesn't feel old. Teddy grabs a mug from the shelf (it reads "I often make light of my chemical dependence on caffeine" and Teddy snorts at it) and places it on the machine, tapping it with his wand to start the brewing. He turns back to James. "Alright then, what can I do to help?"

James grabs the buttermilk that's still dancing in the air by his head and throws it at Teddy. Teddy blinks, catches it, and grabs a bowl from the shelf.

"Right," James says, "flour. You're okay with wheat, right? Or should I spell the gluten out?"

"I'm okay with gluten," Teddy confirms, amused.

James looks up at him and blinks. "Your hair."

Teddy frowns, reaching up to pull a strand of hair in front of his eyes. It's turquoise.

"I haven't," James pauses, looking like he's choosing his words carefully, trying to be diplomatic, which is a bit odd considering he's wearing a t-shirt that screams irreverently LIKES BOYS. "I haven't seen your hair turquoise here since you’ve been back."

Teddy stills. James knows what his hair colour means? Fucking hell. He keeps forgetting that just because he doesn't know James, that doesn't mean James doesn't know him.

Opting not to answer, Teddy hums and flashes James a smile. In all honesty, his hair deciding that it will unintentionally settle as comfortable turquoise here is freaking him the fuck out. He remembers what his research last night turned up—that he landed in the closest thing to a home he has in this universe—and his stomach clenches with worry that his hair somehow knows he will never get back to his other home, to his other life, to his other people. But that's ridiculous.

"Where are your parents?" Teddy asks, wondering why the bustling energy in the house is confined to this room.

"Early work today," James informs. "Can you Summon the sugar and baking powder?"

Teddy finds the ingredients and grabs the carrots from the refrigerator, too, hitting them with a grating charm while James searches through a drawer for a whisk.

They work together easily, James calling out instructions and Teddy following along, happy to do as he's asked.

The batter begins to come together under James's whisking, and James looks behind him, looking for a missing ingredient. "Cast a stirring charm at this, will you?" he asks. "I need to find the ginger."

Teddy nods, wondering for a moment what charm he should use. He doesn't bake much, so his baking charms aren't as good as his chopping charms. But Muggles have those electric mixer things that whirl the little whisks around to stir batters and doughs, don't they? Teddy's sure he's seen that on the telly, so he casts a gyration charm at the whisk.

James lets go of the whisk, making to turn away, but then they both freeze, and Teddy realises with horror that the gyration charm must not be approved for whisks.

The batter flies off the magicked whisk like a centrifuge, splatting on James's face and shirt, as well as the ceiling, the table, and the floor (though the batter that makes for the floor disappears before hitting due to the Potters' excellent floor charms).

James's face is shocked but amused, and his mouth drops open.

Teddy can't help it—he starts to laugh. James huffs in mock anger, which makes Teddy laugh harder.

"Hey James," he manages through laughs, "you've got a bit of a muffin top."

James looks down at his batter-splattered shirt and laughs. Then he grabs the hem of the shirt and lifts it up, bringing the cotton to his mouth and sucking off the batter.

Teddy freezes. He wasn't ready for the sight of James's incredibly fit abs or for the visual of James's mouth sucking and licking batter off his shirt. He supposes he should've been ready for it, given James's expressed distaste for shirts, but, well.

James, realising that Teddy has abruptly stopped laughing, raises his eyes to meet Teddy, his tongue halfway out of his mouth as he holds the shirt up. "What?" he asks.

"Er," Teddy says. "Uh." He tries to resume his laughter, but all that comes out is a nervous chuckle.

James's brow creases in amused confusion at Teddy's stammering, and then he's reaching behind his neck and yanking his shirt over his head, using it to wipe the batter from his face, and Banishing it to the laundry cupboard. And, great, now James is topless. Again. And it's Teddy's own damn fault.

Only, the thought of being responsible for James's topless state conjures a mental image that is really inappropriate right now, and Teddy sucks in a deep breath, trying to push away the image of him peeling off James's shirt and licking muffin batter from his neck and then dragging his mouth and teeth and tongue down James's stomach.

"Teddy, are you alright?" James asks. "I'm not mad."

Teddy blinks. "Right, course you're not. I'm fine."

"Get the ginger," James says. "I think I'll stir this by hand," he adds with a pointed look.

Teddy walks to the cupboard, laughing, when he notices a little owl tapping at the kitchen window. He opens the window and watches the owl fly to him, studying his face for a moment. Teddy reaches for the letter, but the owl turns, moving her foot away from him and scrutinising Teddy's face. He stills, confused. After a moment, the owl hoots and brings her foot around. Teddy removes the letter. "Er, thank you."

The owl hoots once, impossibly dignified, and flies away without looking for a treat.

"That owl's an odd one," James observes, throwing a handful of raisins into the batter.

"Hmmm," Teddy hums in agreement, unfolding the parchment.

_Unspeakable Lupin, Report to Level 9 at 10am. -Imelda Ufford._

__Fuck. Teddy sighs, glancing at the clock. It's 8:30. At least he won't have to miss the muffins.

***

Teddy's mouth still tastes like gingery, mapley carrot muffin as he exits the lift on Level Nine. He'd given James a quick excuse about needing to meet someone about a story and rushed off, but not until he'd helped clean the kitchen (which included scrubbing not only the dishes, but also the ceiling).

His brain, now accustomed to looking for differences between universes, scans the walls and doors and odd little alcoves of the Department of Mysteries, but everything here is the same. There's the strange sculpture of Boris the Bewildered biting into an onion, the faint chirping noise in the Room of Doors that rumour has it has been there since the battle of the second war, and the painting (that was allegedly the inspiration for Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland) of Eloise Mintumble falling through space with the plaque that reads "Mintumbling through Time."

He's distracted when he gets to Imelda's desk, but she just nods and points him to Nettles's office, never pausing in her dictation to a purple quill hovering in the air behind her head.

Teddy, curious but apprehensive, opens the door.

Nettles is pacing the room, hands stuffed inelegantly into his robes, the hair that's left on his balding head flapping absurdly in the breeze of his agitated movements. He stops when he hears the door. "Lupin," he says, throwing out his hand towards one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Teddy nods and sits in the indicated chair.

"Alright," Nettles mumbles. "Alright." He taps his wand on his throat and his voice echoes from the hallway, saying, "Unspeakables Haradas, Tajik, Croaker, Roberts, and Hancock to the Head Unspeakable's office."

Teddy wishes that phones worked in the Ministry, and that he had his phone, because his fingers itch with wanting something to do. His eyes long to look anywhere but at his boss or the doorway. He settles for staring at his shoes, which are the brogue boots he'd worn to Samhain at the Manor and not the old black-with-flames Converse of Albus's he's been wearing, which he'd found stuffed in the back of a wardrobe.

The noise of people shuffling in reaches Teddy's ears, and he hopes that Bev is last in—because if they're first, Teddy will feel awkward and he doesn't know how to cope with essentially having outed them as a traveller from another universe.

Teddy takes a deep breath, focussing on a technique his dad taught him when he was heading off to Hogwarts for the first time. "If you feel small," his dad had said, leaning down to wrap an arm around his shoulders, "you take a breath and imagine that it's inflating your body bigger, and when you let out the air, your body stays the bigger size. You take as many breaths as you need to grow to the right size." After two breaths, the oxygen and memory of his dad make him grow to the point of needing to sit up straight. His shoulders and neck in a more confident position, he exhales, telling his stomach to stop jittering even as he nods and smiles at Bev, who is, of course, the first in the office.

Bev nods back and takes a seat by the fireplace. Teddy feels a bit sick, knowing that everyone here knows, or thinks they know, that Bev has come from Teddy's universe, and that Bev has no idea they all know.

In fact, Teddy feels like he's done something horribly wrong. People get to tell their own secrets. You don't _out_ people, whatever closets they're in. That's something that's seemed nonnegotiable since he was old enough to know what it meant. You don't tell strangers that your dad is a werewolf without understanding the context and checking in with him, even with a quick moment of eye contact. You don't tell anyone details of Harry and Draco's lives, because it always gets back to a reporter. (Unless they ask you to be the source of a leak, like the time they told Teddy to whisper to his Hogwarts friends that Draco'd had a magical vasectomy so that the tabloids and Narcissa would stop speculating about their progeny.) Teddy's never _really_ been in a closet, as both of his parents are staunch believers that "everyone is a little gay" (Teddy's never been sure if he agrees, but his parents do seem to be poster children for that theory), but he's still had his moments of outrage at friends for disclosing details of his sexuality without his permission. And he'd be horrified, outraged, if someone suddenly told people that Teddy was from another universe.

"Alright," Nettles says as Tajik enters and takes the last seat. "Unspeakable Hancock, I have the unhappy task of dragging your personal life into a project."

Nettles doesn't seem too unhappy about it, in Teddy's view. Bev's eyes snap to Nettles's; their face blanches.

"I'm just going to tell you which Seeker caught the Snitch: we have reason to believe that you lived the first decades of your life in a parallel universe, where you served as an Unspeakable for an eight-year period before travelling to this universe in 2016."

Bev's mouth drops open. Teddy's stomach twists with discomfort, pain, empathy.

Bev reaches a hand to brush a flop of curly hair off their face, their hand shaking almost imperceptibly. They blow a puff of air out slowly and say, "Yes." Then their eyes take on a determined glint that makes Teddy wonder if Bev was a Gryffindor at Hogwarts. "And what's it to you?"

Tajik erupts in a bark of unamused laughter that seems to communicate _Can you believe this?_ "What's it to us?What's it _to us?!_ Besides the fact that we're Unspeakables and it could affect the stability of the multiverse? Besides the fact that it could disrupt the magi-cosmos and cause universal incongruities through information contamination? Besides the fact that you've kept this knowledge to yourself, despite the very clear departmental edict to disclose pertinent information that relates to your job or projects undertaken by the department?!" Tajik stops, his face red and his chest heaving.

If Teddy were in charge, he'd have interrupted Tajik's rant. Teddy hates the way Nettles allows interpersonal squabbling.

Bev stares at Tajik with steely determination. "I've been here for _ten years._ The multiverse is stable."

"Are you stuck here?" Haradas asks, leaning forward on her elbows, not bothering to disguise her curiosity.

Bev's eyes meet Teddy's, as if they somehow know that Teddy is the only one here who grasps how awful this breach of privacy is.

"No," Bev says finally, resigned—there's clearly no way to avoid answering. They're surrounded by Unspeakables who will surely use any means necessary to get this information, as it relates to an ongoing project. "I came here on purpose. Well, I was trying to, anyway. I didn’t know it would work. I got into researching the multiverse when I was doing a project on Time-Turners, and I was young and felt like there was nothing for me in that universe anymore. It felt hostile. A hostile universe." Bev pauses. “And after spending weeks immersed in Barstaple’s notes I thought, what the hell, I wonder if this will work. And it did.” They pause for a moment before continuing, "And I'm not going back! You know I have a family here, a life. I have two kids! Martha is five; Jules is two. You can't force me to go."

"How'd you do it?" Teddy speaks quickly, hoping to give Bev a chance to calm down, because he knows Tajik or Nettles will escalate the situation if they respond. "Sorry, I should introduce myself. Unspeakable Teddy Lupin."

"How did you know?" Bev asks, looking straight at Teddy. "You asked me in the corridor."

Teddy flashes an apologetic smile. "I am from another universe, too. The universe you came from. Er, I think so, anyway. I have a case file about your disappearance."

"How did _you_ get here?" Bev asks, shocked.

"I was looking through your effects and notes from other people who disappeared or appeared in a suspicious manner, and I said an incantation after spilling your potion on me." Teddy shrugs. "It was an accident. I wasn't prepared for it—it, er, it wasn't an assignment for me to come here."

Bev's eyes take on that fascinated twinkle that Unspeakables always seem to have when discussing improbable abstractions. "Was it on Samhain?"

"Yes," Teddy confirms.

"Enough, Lupin," Nettles announces in a gruff voice. "We need to hear what Unspeakable Hancock has to say before you tell them any more information."

Bev sighs and runs a hand through their hair. "I was unhappy. I wanted a fresh start, to get away from toxic people. The family I had left didn’t see eye to eye with me on anything. I—" They pause. "I started researching otherworlds mostly as a distraction. I didn't think I'd really find much. But I discovered some correlations—about the timing with Samhain. I studied Barstaple's notes and incantations for months, consulting old books and bizarre theories, most of which were rubbish. One of the things in Barstaple's notes was a long rumination on how to make the subject 'pliant'—susceptible to change. He'd experimented with different herbs and potions, but his notes were inconclusive. So I was looking at my potion one day—"

"Right!” Teddy interrupts, remembering the prescription potion. “Are you a metamorphmagus?"

Bev's face turns cold, which annoys Teddy. Obviously Teddy didn't mean that in an offensive way. But then, Bev doesn't know Teddy's a metamorphmagus. Teddy smiles, trying to diffuse the tension, and morphs his nose into a beak in demonstration.

"Oh, of course,” Bev says, nodding.

“Why, ‘of course,’ Hancock?” Nettles demands with the air of a person who is used to not quite following Bev’s logical leaps.

“It’d make him more pliant, according to Barstaple,” Bev explains. “But, no. I'm not a metamorphmagus."

Teddy's chest sinks as he returns his nose to normal; he'd thought that was it, the explanation for all of this—why he and Bev were able to make the jump. "So why were you taking Avicissitudinem?"

Bev's jaw twitches and then they sigh. "I was taking it for hormone suppression. I don't know if you know this, but I'm trans." Their eyes flash confidence, as if daring anyone to ask any further invasive questions.

Teddy feels like an idiot. _Duh._ He'd known Bev was probably gender non-conforming or non-binary because of the note on their file about pronouns, but he should've guessed; he read the description of Avicissitudinem. But he'd been so distracted by the therapeutic use for metamorphic flux that he'd overlooked it. He takes a breath. Whatever, it's not his place to speculate on people's genders, anyway.

"Right," Teddy says quickly, hoping to prevent their older colleagues from saying something clueless about gender. "But the Avicissitudinem is a therapy for preventing change and change conditions, so how does it affect interuniversal travel?"

"It wasn't Avicissitudinem," Bev says. "Well, not _just_ Avicissitudinem. I added hemlock, which reverses the effect. I wasn't sure it would work, but it seemed like a good chance to achieve the pliant state Barstaple described. He used some kind of blood magic ritual to do it, from what I could gather."

Haradas stands and slashes her wand through the air, leaving behind two shimmery columns, one headed _Teddy_ , the other, _Bev_. "So you ingested the hemlock-and-Avicissitudinem, Bev?"

Bev nods, and Croaker muses, "We should call Hancock's potion Vicissitudinem," following his statement with a little self-satisfied chuckle.

Teddy just barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

Haradas adds _Oral potion_ to Bev's column and _Topical potion_ to Teddy's. "And when did you travel? Samhain—evening?"

Teddy nods. "Yes. About…9:30 or 10pm? When I tried it again in an attempt to get home, it was after midnight, I think, but the potion may have worn off by then, too, so hard to say whether the timing tells us anything."

"For me it was about 7pm," Bev says. "I waited at the office until after everyone had left."

Haradas adds the information to the columns. "What else?"

Teddy sighs, resting his chin in his hand. "I was drunk. Or, at least, not sober." He doesn't look at Nettles, but he can feel the man's disapproval regardless.

"I was sober," Bev replies. "But, I suspected that alcohol or even drugs of some kind might facilitate the process. It seemed like that may have been the case with Agnes Malyns."

"And you said an incantation?" Haradas asks, looking at Teddy.

"Yes. I—Well, why don't you copy it from these notes." Teddy reaches into his bag and pulls out Barstaple's notes, handing the parchment to Haradas and pointing.

She waves her wand and _Velum mundorum transvenire_ appears on Teddy's column. "And you, Bev?"

"I studied that incantation and made an adjustment to it," Bev says. "But it's been a decade—I'll have to find my notes on it and tell you later."

"What else?" Haradas asks, resting her hand, still holding the wand, on her hip and scrutinising the columns.

"Unspeakable Lupin is a metamorphmagus," Nettles says, holding up his hand to tick off a list on his fingers. "Unspeakable Hancock was taking a course of Avicissitudinem. Lupin was—how old are you, Lupin?"

"Twenty-eight, sir."

"Twenty-eight and Hancock was—" He turns to look expectantly at Bev.

"Twenty-nine."

"Lupin was at home; Hancock was on Level Nine." Nettles stops, looking off into space, the whirring of his brain almost visible. "Hancock, where did you land, in this universe?"

"Same place, sir. In the empty office of Thought. I got out quickly, as I didn't want to run into myself, not knowing the details of this universe."

Nettles frowns. "And what ended up happening, with the you from this universe? Your magical signature only registers one geolocation."

Bev's mouth twists. "I was never born in this universe, sir. I suspect that's why I landed here, of all possible places. Since I was hoping for a fresh start, it would have needed to be a place where I didn't already exist. But that's just my speculation, of course—that there’s a component of intention and luck involved."

"Did either of you perform any other rituals?" Tajik asks.

"No," Teddy says, but then he remembers Narcissa's fire. "Well, actually, I participated in a Samhain Summoning," he adds.

Nettles raises his eyebrows. "And you were going to tell us this part of the story, when? Next year, sometime?"

"It didn't occur to me—"

"What about you, Hancock?" Nettles says.

"No rituals, no Summonings. I took the potion. I said the incantation. I waited for sundown on Samhain."

"Wait," Teddy says, eyes widening. "I have to wait until next Samhain to get out of here?! I have people who are worried about me! I have family! I have—"

Nettles holds up a hand. "No need to panic, Lupin. You know that the department can manipulate the veil. Talk to me, Roberts."

Roberts smiles, and Teddy wonders if he’ll hate this universe’s Roberts as much as he hates the other one—smug bastard. "We can thin the veil in our laboratory, mimicking the conditions of Samhain. So if done here, in Death, we could do that anytime. Well, we'd need a bit of notice because I think I'm out of salamander fire."

Teddy is tempted to ask, but he's learned that, with Unspeakables, you're often better off not knowing.

"Farzad," Croaker says, turning to Tajik, "do you think that the risk of information contamination will be eradicated once we send them back, or do you think there will be lasting ramifications to their universal displacement?"

"It's hard to say, because the—" Tajik begins, but he's interrupted by Bev.

"Excuse me?" Bev asks, face reddening. "I'm not _going back._ This is my _home._ Did you not hear me say I have a family? I've been here for _ten years._ I have children!"

Nettles starts to pace the floor as Croaker and Tajik share an exasperated look.

"There's no reason Bev needs to travel back, is there?" Teddy asks, feeling the need to stick up for his fellow universe-traveller.

“Certainly not,” Haradas agrees and Teddy smiles at her.

"I'll need to go back," Teddy says, the words catching a bit in his throat as he thinks of James, and of Albus and Scorpius, and of this universe's Harry. But he knows it's true. He can't abandon his entire world; it's dangerous for him to be here. There's another version of him in this world! "But Bev has been here so long that surely it'd cause more problems, more information contamination, if they were to go back? The universe—my universe—is stable without them."

"How can you _know_ that, though?" Haradas asks, and Merlin, it's exhausting dealing with Unspeakables.

"If you think there’s risk," Bev says, “it’s just as likely to be problematic to send Lupin back as it would be to keep me here. More so, in fact."

_What?_ Teddy feels a chill spread down the back of his neck, as well as a bit of betrayal that Bev doesn't feel the same need to stick up for Teddy as Teddy feels to stick up for them, though he supposes he’d also have a big reaction if someone was suggesting tearing him away from his small children.

"We have evidence that people—Lupin and myself—travelling from another universe to this one have not caused a destabilising incongruity. We do not have any evidence that sending someone _back_ will not cause a destabilisation. We need to use the evidence we have, and—"

"Absolutely not," Croaker rasps. "We send Lupin back now. The longer he's here the more the chance that he upsets up our entire world, with Harry Potter at the centre of it. It's too risky for him to have been here even this long."

Teddy's face heats, a stark change from the chill he'd just had. _Now?_ He can't go back _now._ He hasn't sorted things with James. He hasn't said goodbye. He hasn't made sense of all of this yet. He needs more time. He's just been starting to feel settled with James, to understand their relationship and to enjoy James's presence, soaking up his warmth and verve and the strange and wonderful camaraderie of spending time with another person who understands what it means to be the child of heroes. He's not ready to leave behind James's teasing smile and his desire to go rock climbing and his breakfast baking and—

Oh, bloody buggering fuck. He's fallen arse over tit for a person who shouldn't exist, hasn't he?

He's not paying attention to the debate—which he thinks might be about determining his fate in this universe—raging on around him. Tajik and Haradas are arguing, but what's new there. Hancock is angry and, if Teddy's reading their face right, worried. But none of their words are registering because he is going to be completely disappointed no matter what they decide. He wants to go home; he wants his mum and dad, no matter that he's twenty-eight years old, he wants his Harry and Draco, and he wants his grandmother alive. But he also wants James, and to hang out with Albus and Scorpius, and to see this Harry as a dad, and to listen to Harry and Ginny's hilarious double-act, and to use the rest of the Potters' novelty mugs.

His chest is tight; he can't breathe. His brain helpfully supplies the lyric from that dumb Muggle song they always play at the end of the night at the Muggle pub Harry likes near Grosvenor Square: _You don't have to go home but you can't stay here._ Except it's more like _You can't go home but you can't stay here._

__He's never felt more stuck in his life.

Nettles claps his hands, shaking Teddy from his stupor. "Alright. I've had enough of this meeting. I'm going to research this and consult with—well, I'm not sure yet. But I'm going to consult with whomever the fuck I want to—and I will make a decision soon."

Teddy's chest eases a bit—just a fraction, but enough to allow him to inhale.

"Lupin," Nettles orders, "continue as before. I'll be in touch. Hancock, expect a meeting with me soon. That's it. Get out, all of you."

Teddy, still in a daze, rushes for the door, not bothering to look behind him at the concerned faces of Bev and Shruthi, or the indifferent, calculating faces of Saul and Farzad.

He needs to get out of here.

***

When Teddy steps out of the Floo, a broom zooms into the sitting room and to the hearth, immediately sweeping at his feet, bringing up a little cloud of soot that the broom swallows, opening its bristles like a mouth and sucking it into nothingness.

Teddy freezes. Harry's harried voice floats down from upstairs, calling, "Should I hide the basket of sex positivity?" and Ginny's voice, coming from another unidentifiable location screams back, "Yes! Obviously! Where are those fucking candles Mum gave us for Christmas?!"

James walks in with a parade of objects—a balled-up pair of socks, a hairbrush, a Quaffle, a crystal ball, a single Wellie—floating behind him. He smiles when he sees Teddy being attacked by the broom.

"What the fuck is going on?" Teddy asks, holding his arms up, out of the range of the broom handle.

James flicks his wand at the broom and it reverses course, zooming into the kitchen. A grin curls James's lips. "Albus sent a letter saying that he and Scorpius wondered if Mum and Dad could have them and Mr Malfoy over for supper—he said _supper_ , which we never say so we suspect that Scorpius was dictating—because they have," James pauses for drama, " _something to tell us._ "

Teddy feels his eyes widening, a smile forming, somehow caught up in the excitement even though he's brand new to this family. He laughs, and can feel some of the tension leave his shoulders as James laughs back. "What do you think they have to tell?"

"Search me," James says. "Mum and Dad have been speculating ever since. For some reason they both immediately jumped to male pregnancy, but I think that's just parents being parents, you know? Then Dad got in his head that they're moving to like, Antarctica, and he's been moping about that between his bouts of mad cleaning. Then Mum suggested that they've got engaged, which sent her on a rant about Potters settling down too young."

Teddy laughs, bewildered. "But why are they cleaning?"

"Because," James says expressively, "Mr _Malfoy_ is coming over. Last time he showed up with Scorpius it was unannounced and there was a condom hanging on the Christmas tree. They're determined to put on a better act this time. Pretend to be normal, or something."

Teddy's not sure where to direct his amusement: the condom-as-ornament, Harry and Ginny wanting to impress Draco, the freaking out about Albus and Scorpius's news. He lets his bag drop off his shoulder and waves his wand to send it to the cupboard. Something tells him his bag won't be welcome on the floor next to the sofa today.

Harry runs down the stairs, his face white, holding a duster. "You don't think one of them is sick, do you?"

"Dad, no," James says, exasperated.

"Because they were really tired when they were here for the weekend."

"That's because they wear each other out with all their love-making," James counters, and it's a mark of Harry's worry that he doesn't roll his eyes or reprimand James for his vulgarity.

"I worry about them getting that new magic-resistant tick-borne disease, what with their hiking or whatever it is they do," Harry says, absently dusting the balustrade.

"There's no reason to assume they're sick," James insists, shooting a pleading look at Teddy.

"Harry, how can I help clean up?" Teddy asks, going for distraction.

"Oh, thanks Teddy. Er, can you get the dried wax off the dining-room table? It's been there ever since the last time we used candles."

"Sure," Teddy said, no idea what kind of charm to use for wax removal but game to try, regardless.

"Right," Harry says, already halfway back upstairs, "I'm just going to run back upstairs and finish with the bathroom."

James sighs, and all of the items marching behind him bob in a little wave as he does so. "Mr Malfoy isn't even going to go upstairs."

"What's with the, er, parade of oddities behind you?" Teddy asks, pointing at the items as he starts for the dining room.

"Oh, just random stuff that needs to be put away. I'm going to go hide them under the Invisibility Cloak because I can't be arsed to actually deal with them." He winks, and Teddy's stomach flips.

It's strange; in his world, Harry'd given him the Invisibility Cloak when he went off to Hogwarts. But here, James has it, and he's winking at Teddy and helping his parents in their insane rush of cleaning, and calming down Harry's overactive worrying about his loved ones, and Teddy feels lost in it. It's confusing, how their experiences are all jumbled and tangled up, and yet it somehow doesn't feel wrong.

James runs up the stairs two at a time, his objects following dutifully behind, and Teddy finds the mess of wax on the dining table. He isn't precise enough with a Vanishing Charm to try that, so he starts by hitting it with a mild Warming Charm to loosen it up, then hits it with a Scraping Charm, and finishes off with a spell to touch up the finish on furniture (which his Harry had taught him when he was twelve and had accidentally scratched a table at the Manor).

Twenty minutes later, table free of wax and the house mostly ready, there's a knock at the door. Ginny pauses, her arms full of dishes, and Harry barrels down the stairs to open the door.

"What should we do now?" Teddy whispers to James, standing out of the way at the back of the room.

James grins. "Make popcorn?"

Harry opens the door, revealing Draco on the step, and Teddy's chest tightens—this is his first time seeing Draco in this universe. He looks much the same, but he's wearing wire-framed glasses, and his hair is neater, and his clothes are more sedate. Teddy's used to Draco in bright colours and scarves, not white shirts and waistcoats.

"Here," Draco says, shoving a bottle of wine into Harry's hands. "What exactly did they say? Are they okay?"

Harry rolls his eyes, holding the door open and gesturing Draco in. Draco looks around with an assessing eye, but says nothing about the house.

"No, they didn't tell us anything," Harry says. "I already told you that."

"Hello Ginny," Draco says, seeming to remember his manners so long as he's not talking to Harry. "James, Teddy."

James raises a hand and gives him a jaunty wave and smile, as Teddy tries to smile—but he _can't._ Because this isn't Draco.

It's wrong, it's so wrong, and Teddy feels like he can't move because it must be a dream. Harry and Draco are talking to each other like begrudging acquaintances—no, like _in-laws,_ with all the baggage that comes with that. They're supposed to treat each other with banter-laden love and jokes and a general atmosphere of conspiratorial us-against-the-world. Draco is supposed to treat Teddy with warmth, like a younger brother or son, depending on the context, throwing his arm around Teddy and asking about Teddy's work with interest. Not—this.

But Draco and Harry are too preoccupied with their sons to pay Teddy any mind.

"Have they done anything suspicious lately?" Draco asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harry frowns, thinking. "They were tired last I saw them."

"Both of them? Or just Albus?" Draco asks, pursing his lips. "I remember Astoria was really tired when she was first pregnant."

Ginny seems to have had enough of this conversation already and quietly retreats to the kitchen.

"What makes you think _Albus_ would be the one to get pregnant?" Harry says, raising an eyebrow. "Scorpius was just as tired as Albus."

"Oh my god," James whispers. "We have to stop this." He claps his hands and walks towards the dads. "I am so glad you're both here. I need advice from men."

Harry turns to look at James with confused concern. "What about?"

"I was talking with a Healer about magical vasectomies," James begins, "and they told me that they're safe and effective, and even reversible. But I just feel like they _have_ to say that, you know? And I also don't feel like these Healers have necessarily lived through it. So what I'm wondering is, how's the lived experience?"

Draco's mouth gapes open, and if Teddy weren't trying so hard not to laugh, he'd concentrate on Draco's face to make sure it was clearly registered for later perusal in a Pensieve.

Harry opens his mouth, then clamps it shut. If Teddy is reading Harry's face right, he's tempted to tell James to shut up, but isn't sure if maybe James really wants advice and doesn't want to accidentally shut him down. Harry, in any universe apparently, always errs on the side of supporting his loved ones. Even if he seems half certain he's being trolled.

"In my experience," Harry says carefully, "it doesn't, er, impact lived experience."

Draco wrinkles his nose. "Did you just use the word _impact_ in this conversation? As a verb, no less?"

"But," James continues, "I've read it's possible you can get sperm congestion."

"Er," Harry stalls. "You know, James, I support your reproductive freedom, but you're only twenty-two, and you're single…I think this conversation can wait. At least until after dinner."

"Do you have any insight, Mr Malfoy?" James asks Draco.

Draco takes a step backward. "I really wouldn't know."

James sighs, as if put out. He turns, looking at Teddy over his shoulder, and winks. "What about you, Teddy?"

"Sorry James," Teddy replies, trying not to laugh. "Everything is untampered with on my end."

"On your _end_ ," James deadpans, raising an eyebrow.

Harry grabs James's shoulder and pushes him towards the kitchen. "Go help your mother, please."

Once James is out of the room, Draco relaxes a bit and sets down his coat on a chair. "How are you, Teddy?" he asks with too little familiarity. "I didn't know you were in town."

"Ah," Teddy says, Nettles's angry face swimming in his head, "I'd appreciate it if you don't advertise that—I need to stay out of the papers. A journalism…project. Er, story."

Draco looks confused for a brief moment but then he nods and turns back to Harry. "You don't think they're breaking up, do you, Potter?"

Harry freezes. "Breaking up?! Why would you think that?!"

"No reason; I'm merely trying to guess what piece of news would be so momentous as to necessitate gathering us all together. I hope Albus isn't trying to make Scorpius stay in Edinburgh when he finishes with his Veterinary Healing programme."

"And that would be _Albus's_ fault?" Harry huffs. "Al needs to finish his degree. He can't just—"

"I know that, Potter!" Draco sighs. "I love Albus, really. You know we consider him part of the family. I just worry that they're not going to have the proper priorities with regard to—"

"The proper priorities?" Harry snaps. "And you'd know all about that?"

"Yes, indeed I think I do," Draco says, fixing Harry with a glare. "I have lived quite a bit longer than them, after all, and I've seen how relationships are often taken for granted until it's too late."

"They're not going to do that," Harry says. "They have been together forever, and they have Ginny and I as a good example of a couple growing together."

"Are you giving yourself points for having a wife who hasn't _died?_ " Draco asks, his voice dangerously cold.

"No!" Harry says. "That's not what I meant!"

Mercifully, there's a whoosh of flame from the Floo and Ginny runs into the room, moving to stand next to Harry and grabbing his hand tightly in hers. Draco crosses his arms over his chest, and the three of them stand taller, happy smiles plastered on their faces. James jogs into the room, his face alight with eager amusement, and stands next to Teddy.

Teddy wants to snort at the fake smiles on the parents’ faces, but he rather thinks it would ruin the image they're trying to project—this whole calm, supportive parent act.

Albus steps through the Floo first, his lopsided tangle of curls flopping in one eye. Scorpius is next, and grabs Albus's shoulders for support as he steps off the hearth. Albus's fingers immediately find their way into Scorpius's back pocket, and Teddy suspects that Draco's worries about them breaking up are unfounded.

"Hello," Scorpius says, smiling shyly and pushing his blond hair out of his face. He leans into Albus in an absent-minded way, though his face looks like he's trying to be serious.

The parents all start to say hello at once, Draco's posh "Good evening, Scorpius, Albus" competing with Ginny's exuberant "Al!" and Harry's almost-too-aggressive back slapping.

"Want to make a bet on what happens?" James whispers, leaning closer and bringing with him the scent of cinnamon.

Teddy wonders if James always smells like cinnamon or if that's a remnant of this morning's muffin catastrophe.

"I wouldn't even know where to start," Teddy murmurs in response.

"Ten Galleons someone cries."

Teddy laughs. "Okay, you're on."

"Can I get anyone a drink?" Harry asks, and six voices quickly answer in the affirmative.

Teddy follows Harry into the kitchen to help fetch the drinks, smiling when he feels James following behind him.

James whispers, "And a further five Galleons that they haven't broken up."

"I'm not taking that bet," Teddy barks with a laugh, turning around. "What am I, an idiot?"

Harry turns, wand raised from popping the corks out of wine bottles. "Are you two making bets?! Come on! What if they're not okay?"

"Dad, honestly, they're fine." James lines up a row of glasses next to the bottles. "Did you see them? Albus can't keep his hand out of Scorpius's fucking trousers."

Harry frowns and waves his wand to pour the wine. "But what do you think they want to tell us?"

"Probably something boring," Teddy guesses. "Like one of them got a job, or they're moving flats."

Harry blows out a huff of air, Levitating the filled glasses towards the doorway. "You're probably right. Let's just go find out, shall we?" Before he goes through the door, he asks, "Am I allowed to hex Malfoy? It'd make me feel better."

James snorts. "I don't think Al would appreciate that, Dad."

Harry heaves a dramatic, put-upon sigh, and they return to the sitting room, the wine glasses bobbing through the air to each person.

Draco does not seem content to wait for the news, and in what Teddy thinks is a rather Slytherin fashion, he raises his glass and says, "To what are we toasting?"

Every face in the room turns to Albus and Scorpius. Teddy notices that they look really happy, almost bubbling with excitement. It's a youthful kind of exuberance, of possibility, that is completely at odds with Albus's grungy flannel-and-jeans aesthetic. It's an energy that Teddy hasn't felt in a long time.

Albus turns to Scorpius, and his face cracks into a small smile. Scorpius's bright eyes grow wider and he smiles so wide you can see his dimples across the room. It's painfully obvious to Teddy how much they love each other.

"Right," Scorpius says, throwing one arm around Albus's shoulders. "We wanted to tell you that we're officially never getting married." Scorpius turns to Albus and they smile at each other in a way that can only be described as _soppy._

__The silence is deafening, and when Teddy glances to his left he finds James's face brimming with mirth, visibly trying to stop himself from laughing.

Harry breaks the silence. "You're _what?_ "

Albus grins. "We are never going to get married. And we thought you should know, like, so you won't think it's coming."

Scorpius nods. "Right. So you don't think we're like, putting our lives on hold waiting for it. Our lives are not on hold."

"Nope," Albus said, shaking his head. "Full steam ahead."

"But no marriage," Scorpius adds. "Not now, not in ten years."

"Right," Albus says. "Because we don't need the Ministry to acknowledge our relationship for it to be real and important."

"Right," Scorpius says. "Marriage is an institution. Marriage is bureaucracy. We don't exist to benefit institutions."

James lets out a noise that's somewhere between a snort and a choke, then tries to cover it up with a hand motion as if it was a sneeze.

Ginny nods once. "Alright. Your choice. Is that all?"

"Yep!" Scorpius says, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Are there any other institutions you're opting out of that we should know about?" Draco asks, an eyebrow raised. "The Magical Health System? Ministry Pension? Taxes?"

Albus presses his lips together, but Scorpius answers. "Not as of yet, no."

"Just don't become anarchists," Draco says with a sigh, and it strikes Teddy as such a _Draco_ thing to say that he has to press his lips together to stop from laughing.

"Don't make fun, Dad," Scorpius says, his voice smaller. "We're quite serious."

"I know," Draco says, and smiles. "I'm happy for you, and just relieved nothing is wrong."

"He was worried you were going to split up," James puts in.

Scorpius's face takes on an outraged look as Draco objects, "I was not!" Draco stops, walks over to hug his son and pat Albus on the back. "I was only worried something was wrong. I—we all—care about you."

Scorpius's grin is visible from across the room, even though his face is smushed in Draco's shoulder.

"If anything, I should thank you," Draco says. "For getting us out of wedding planning. A frightful affair, really. Though your grandmother will be devastated."

Harry turns to Teddy and shares a horrified look, as if he's just now realised that he might have been forced to plan a wedding with Narcissa Malfoy. Teddy grins back at him, hoping he's reading the interaction right.

"And if you'd like to make this non-marriage announcement official," Draco says, speaking slowly, as if he's debating the politics of each word, "I'd be happy to talk with Flaubert about adding Albus to the entail and the family tapestry."

Scorpius pulls back, his eyes glassy with happy tears as he stares at his dad for a moment, and then he's crushing Draco and Albus into a hug, laughing wetly. Draco's face is surprised but pleased as he pats their backs with fondness, and Albus looks ecstatically happy at Draco's show of inclusion and acceptance.

"Which one of us bet on the crying?" James whispers. "Did I just win ten Galleons?"

"That doesn't count!" Teddy claims, outraged. Somehow he's caught up in James's antics. "No tears broke the barrier! They stayed within the surface tension of his eyes!"

James raises an eyebrow and then cracks into laughter. "The _surface tension_?!"

"Whatever, that's what it is," Teddy defends, willing to be pedantic because he's right. Even if he's not sure whether the Teddy from this universe knows about things like surface tension.

James looks over Teddy's shoulder and narrows his eyes. "What the fuck are they doing?"

Harry and Ginny are arguing in whispers. No, it's not an argument, it’s a—brainstorming session? They're gesturing and talking back and forth at each other, and Ginny's face is getting red and Harry's reaching for his wand.

" _Dad_ ," James hisses, and they turn.

"What?" Harry asks.

"What are you doing?"

"We don't have a family tapestry!" Ginny whispers, eyes wide, as if this is a horrible dilemma.

"So?" James asks.

"What are we going to offer them?!" Harry asks.

Teddy starts to laugh, but the wrongness makes his chest ache.

It's completely surreal. Harry and Ginny are trying to keep up with Draco in a race of—being good in-laws. Or, non-in-laws, rather. They're getting competitive over being supportive of their sons' relationship. And Harry and Ginny are clearly a team. It's not like this is a Harry-and-Draco competitive thing, like Teddy (being from his universe) would've expected. No, this Harry and this Ginny are a fabulous team. They have a vibrant, joy-filled home and wonderful kids and they love each other and band together against former nemeses, and it makes Teddy feel wrong-footed.

He'd always thought that differences between universes would illuminate choices—if I'd done _x,_ then it would lead to _y,_ and I can see how that's a better outcome than ~x and ~y. But from where Teddy's standing, straddling two universes, the choices aren't illuminated. There's no obvious better or worse. Harry is happy here. Harry is happy there.

The implications of this start to make Teddy's head spin, but he's interrupted from his thoughts by Ginny whispering furiously, "He already has like six Weasley jumpers!"

"Fuck," Harry hisses.

"Wow, yeah, this really is a horrible situation," James adds.

"I should've kept the Elder Wand, after all," Harry says. "That'd be a good thing to present to him."

Teddy's jaw drops, completely unused to Harry joking about stuff like that, as Ginny elbows Harry in the ribs.

"I'm kidding!" Harry says, laughing.

"I think you're missing the obvious," Teddy says, and points to the wall on the side of the staircase, of which every inch of space is filled with framed photos of the extended Potter family. There are dozens of baby photos of James, Albus, and Lily, and childhood and family photos of them in every permutation, but there are also photos of Teddy, the Weasleys, Ron and Hermione, Neville, Luna, various nieces and nephews, and old photos of Harry's parents, Teddy's Mum and Dad, and all sorts of people that Teddy vaguely knows as deceased heroes of the war.

"Scorp is already on the wall," James says, pointing to a few photos of Albus and Scorpius together. One shows them at about age twelve, standing with arms around each other's shoulders and bright eyes in front of the Hogwarts Express. One shows them at about sixteen, on a sofa with Scorpius's feet in Albus's lap—Albus laughing and Scorpius staring at him. One shows them in their flat right after they moved in—the room completely empty but for the two of them.

"Yeah but none of just Scorpius," Teddy says. "Right now he's only there _through_ Albus."

Ginny's face breaks into a pleased smile and she looks at Harry. "Brilliant."

Harry nods.

"Scorpius," Ginny says, grabbing a camera off the shelf by the telly. "Can I take your picture?"

"Sure!" Scorpius says, reaching for Albus and standing close to him, ready to pose.

"This time I'd like one of just you," Ginny says. "So you can be on the wall yourself, as just Scorpius, rather than being on there as Albus-and-Scorpius."

Scorpius pauses, and looks with emotion at Albus, who grins back like a loon. Scorpius nods, and stands to the side, by himself, and smiles. Ginny snaps a photo.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Harry says suddenly, "let's get one with you in there with him, Malfoy."

Draco looks surprised, but goes unquestioningly to his son, standing with his arm around Scorpius's shoulders, and they both smile for Ginny.

Ginny taps the camera and two photos slide out. She looks at them and smiles, walks to the stairs and tucks the new photos into the front of other frames. "That'll do until we get some frames. You're officially part of the family."

Harry smiles, his happiness palpable even from across the room. "You know what that means," he says seriously. "You have to participate in the Annual Potter Garden De-Gnoming."

"Good grief," sighs Draco.

***

Dinner is weird. Not for the others—they're all giddy on wine and Albus and Scorpius's non-marriage—but for Teddy.

He's never seen Draco as a father before, and it's strange and heartwarming and wrong and wonderful. Draco has smiles for Scorpius that Teddy has never seen before.

He's also never seen Draco so generally uptight before, or so wary of Harry, and it's awful.

Both Scorpius and James would talk all day long, and Albus readily engages with each of them, so the table is filled with the type of easy, happy chatter that characterises family dinners. The parents laugh at their children's antics, they roll their eyes good-naturedly, filled with so much love that they almost glow with it. Ginny teases Harry, which earns honks of laughter from her children and a poorly disguised snort from Draco, and Harry pretends to be upset and hits her hair with a Stand-On-End Charm, causing her ginger locks to float straight towards the ceiling. Draco dryly announces that it isn't kind of Harry to seek revenge by making other people's hair look like his own, which makes Albus laugh so hard he chokes on his chicken. When he's not carrying a conversation with the table, James leans closer to Teddy and provides a running commentary, making such observations as, "Scorpius is one glass of wine away from uncontrollable giggling," and "Dad just noticed that Mr Malfoy isn't eating his sprouts."

But the warm atmosphere can't wrap around Teddy. All Teddy can see is the stiff way Draco holds his spine when Harry speaks, and the wedding band on Draco's hand despite his having been a widower for, from what Teddy can tell, many years. Teddy's chest tightens when he sees Harry doing his best to ignore Draco, focussing his attention on the children instead. He feels a chill on the back of his neck when he sees Ginny tuck her leg over Harry's thigh. It's not as if he hasn't seen Harry and Ginny's casual affection before, but never with Draco present, and Teddy feels like the world is going to implode. His ears start ringing, a tinny sound that makes it hard to pay attention.

Maybe the multiverse _is_ going to explode, he thinks idly and with some curiosity. Maybe his witnessing this is the thing that will cause an incongruity that the multiverse can't mend.

"Are you okay?" James whispers, pausing an update about Harry eyeing Draco's sprouts. (Harry apparently hates it when people don't eat food they've been served.)

"I'm fine," Teddy lies, and forces a bite of roasted potato, which tastes like sawdust despite the generous amount of butter it's dressed with.

"You don't seem fine," James says, eating a forkful of chicken.

But no one else notices Teddy's odd behaviour, occupied as they are with a debate on the relative merits of Cleansweep versus Nimbus. The dinner concludes without conflict, and before Teddy realises what's happened, they're finishing pudding and Draco is gathering his coat and thanking Harry and Ginny for having him.

They're all polite, but it's wrong. It's _wrong._ Teddy stands, but he feels like he's in a dream, and Draco walks over and sticks out his hand. That's wrong; he should be offering a hug. Without thinking, Teddy says, "Gotta go, Grindylow."

Draco flashes him an amused, confused smile. "I suspect I'll see you soon, Teddy. Assuming you'll be in town for awhile." Draco turns away before he can see the smile disappear from Teddy's face.

Teddy has to get out of here. He has to get out of here _right now._ He turns, ignoring James, who is saying something, and walks out the back door and into the chilly night air. He keeps walking, through the damp grass, and eventually finds a large rock and sits on it, burying his head in his hands.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Teddy was a toddler when Harry and Draco started dating, around the time Narcissa and Andromeda reconciled. Teddy doesn't really remember it much, but he knows from stories that it was a strange time, after the war. Things seemed possible, even as everything also seemed doomed. But Harry and Draco started dating, and Harry was a constant fixture at the Lupin-Tonks home, even after he moved into his own flat when Teddy was two. So when Harry started dating Draco, he brought Draco round to dinner at least once a week, and Teddy's mum started spending lots of time with her aunt and her cousin, though not together, and it of course wasn't long before their estranged and reconciled, odd and improbable grouping became Teddy's stable family.

Draco had known Teddy since Teddy was two or three, somewhere around there, but at first when Draco came round with Harry he felt awkward around Teddy's parents—and for good reason, really; Teddy knows even Draco would admit that he deserved all their skepticism in those days. When Draco came over, he would sit on the sofa looking generally uncomfortable, and Teddy would grab books and run over and sit on his lap. Teddy did that with any adult who sat down, and Draco, in his discomfort, sat more than most.

So Teddy and Draco developed a tradition of sitting on the sofa, Draco reading books to Teddy. One of Teddy's favourites was a board book that Harry had found in a bookstore in the magical section of New York City. It was called "Goodbye!" and featured colourful illustrations of magical creatures; "Gotta go, Gindylow!" the first page read, then, "In the morn, Graphorn!" Everyone read this book to Teddy constantly, at his insistence, including Draco. They started saying the silly phrases all the time, long after Teddy outgrew board books. Of course Draco, when they all went to King's Cross to see Teddy off to Hogwarts nine years later, said, "Gotta go, Grindylow," as he hugged Teddy and all of the adults pretended not to be sad to see him go.

Teddy can't do this.

He hears a noise and looks up; the night is dark, but he can just make out the shape of James walking over, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Teddy takes a breath, trying to gather himself, somewhat surprised to find that he's been crying.

James sits and gives him a tentative smile. "So I win that ten Galleons, after all."

"I don't have any money on me," Teddy says, trying to make light of it. "Can I pay you in instalments?"

"What's wrong?" James isn't judging him, or being overly worried. He's just sitting there, curiosity and care pouring off him.

Teddy sighs. He can't explain it to James, but he's somewhat surprised to find that he wishes he could. "I think I'm homesick."

James stiffens, his face shutters.

"Not for—" Teddy amends. Fuck. "I'm homesick for childhood." He cringes, realising how mawkish he sounds. "That sounds pitiful, doesn't it."

James wrinkles his nose. "No? Not really?" He pauses, then nudges Teddy with his elbow. "I suppose that's normal for old men."

Teddy laughs, hating the way it sounds sniffly. "It's just kind of a lot, being here." Not a lie. "Everything's changed." Not a lie.

James sighs, leaning back on his arms and looking up at the sky. "Yeah. I know what you mean. Family dinners used to be with Ron and Hermione, and now it's with Scorpius and Mr Malfoy. Kinda weird."

"Well, you still have dinners with Ron and Hermione, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course. It's just strange how when you're a kid you think your family is like, a stable list of people. But as you get older you realise that it's always changing, and not because of births or deaths, because of like." James stops and turns to look at Teddy. "Because new people are around, and old people leave. _You_ aren't usually around for family dinners anymore."

Teddy's breath catches. It hadn't occurred to him that _he_ might make James feel a bit wrong-footed, like this universe does to Teddy.

"Not that you aren't family," James says, looking back up. "Of course you are. But if Scorpius and Mr Malfoy are at our house for every holiday, well. Boom. They're family now. I didn't used to think it worked like that."

Teddy sighs. "Yeah." He wants to twine his fingers with James's, but he shouldn’t. Everything about this universe is wrong, and the parts that feel right—like wanting to grab James's hand and feel his warm, strong grip, to think of it as symbolic of his support and understanding—are not allowed. "Growing up is weird."

James snorts. "It's overrated, too. What's it mean to be an adult, anyway?"

Teddy raises an eyebrow. "Now you sound like Albus."

"Seriously," James says. "Look at Mum and Dad, running around the house hiding baskets of condoms. They're nearly fifty years old. If you asked me when I was younger, I would've said that hiding condoms was an activity that stopped when you hit twenty."

Teddy laughs.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. The stars are bright in the sky; the crisp air brings with it the first scents of the coming winter. A beam of light from the house casts a prism of light across the dark garden, and Teddy can just make out the sounds of banging pots and pans as Harry and Ginny clean up the kitchen.

"Wanna get drunk with Al and Scorpius?" James asks, turning his head to look at Teddy.

Something about the suddenness of the suggestion makes Teddy snort. "Er, seriously?"

James shrugs. "Yeah, Uncle George gave Mum and Dad a reeeeally good-looking bottle of Firewhiskey, but you know how they prefer _non-brown liquors._ "

"Alright," Teddy says, suspecting it's a monumentally bad idea to get drunk while sad and maudlin and in another universe, but not able to bring himself to care enough to say no.

James hops up and holds his hand out to Teddy. "Come along, sir."

Teddy lets himself be pulled up and follows James into the house. They enter into the kitchen, where they find bewitched cloths wiping the counters, Ginny leaning against the table, and Harry putting away the last of the wine glasses.

"Everything okay?" Ginny asks, and her eyes shine with a parental kind of love that Teddy isn't used to getting from her. It's odd; he supposes that in this universe Ginny is the closest thing to a mum he's ever had. The thought augments his feeling of wrongness.

If he were a good undercover Unspeakable, he'd smile at her with reassurance and give her a hug. But he's not. He's shit at applied missions, and this is way too personal, anyway. He stands, frozen.

James saves him. "Yeah, we're fine. Dad, can we have that Firewhiskey Uncle George gave you?"

Harry leans on the counter, next to Ginny, and assesses them. "You're going to stay here? No Apparition. No spell casting. You remember what happened last time."

"Yeah, yeah," James says. "So can we?"

"Sure," Harry says, looking between them with a discerning look, like he's trying to decide if they're just looking for a good time or if there's something wrong. "There are Sobering and Hangover Potions in the potions cabinet. We're, er, going to bed."

James turns and raises an eyebrow at Teddy as they walk out of the kitchen. It really is way too early for Harry and Ginny to be going to sleep. Teddy tries to force himself to grin, because he knows it's what's expected, but he suspects his mouth only takes on a worrying rictus.

Albus and Scorpius are lying prone on the sofa, side by side. One of them (it's impossible to tell who) is holding up a phone, and they're both staring at it and smiling.

James wanders over to a cabinet and returns with the whiskey. "Hey, come get drunk with us."

The phone lowers. Scorpius's eyes flit to Teddy's, then to Albus's. Al nods, and Scorpius shrugs. "Alright."

Teddy has a vision of Nettles, face red and veins popping, screaming at him to make good decisions, but he pushes it away and Summons four glasses.

By the time they've made a dent in the bottle (and the whiskey really is good), they're all sprawled on the floor. Albus's legs are slung over Scorpius's lap, and he's gesticulating wildly while talking; if the tumbler didn't have a built-in Anti-Sloshing Charm, there would be Firewhisky everywhere. Apparently Albus gets talkative whilst drinking, and Scorpius gets giggly. Scorpius has been laughing for about ten minutes straight.

Teddy's chest feels warm and loose, and he refills his glass. He can't stop looking at James, even as he listens distractedly to Albus's outrage over One Wand, a boy band, covering the classic Weird Sisters song "This Is The Night."

"It's just, is nothing _sacred_?" Albus asks. "The Weird Sisters were pioneers in introducing alternative rock to the wizarding world. The entire _point_ of the Weird Sisters' music was to push back against the mainstream. Look at the lyrics to 'Black My Hat,' the entire thing is like a manifesto of a grunge life."

Scorpius giggles harder, leaning forward over Albus's legs.

"Meanwhile, this boy band is completely corporate. They have no soul; they aren't even musicians. Did you know they're managed by Gringotts goblins? Everything they do is for money; they have no artistic integrity."

Scorpius topples to his left, falling bodily on top of Albus.

Albus doesn't even blink at his sudden lapful of Scorpius, continuing, "So they're going to cover the song even though their values are completely out of line with the Weird Sisters _and_ with that song? It's outrageous! And did you know that they replaced the bagpipes with a synthesiser? A fucking _synthesiser,_ James. Honestly it makes me want to gouge my ears off."

Scorpius's hand slides up Albus's shirt, but he doesn't stop laughing.

"It's not that deep, Albus," James claims, raising his glass into the air. "It's music. It's just about what's enjoyable. And One Wand isn't bad. Have you even listened to them? 'Potionless' is a total banger."

Teddy tears his eyes away from James long enough to see Albus's expression of shock and disdain.

"James," Albus says, weight of the world dragging his voice to a low pitch. "No. No. I don't even know where to start. 'Potionless' is, is, is anodyne pabulum!!!!!"

Scorpius, still laughing, reaches up and puts a hand over Albus's mouth. "Al, Alllllllbus, Al, stop talking or they're going to make fun of you forever and you're going to be sad about it later."

"I will never regret standing up for my values," Albus mumbles around Scorpius's hand.

Teddy laughs, throwing his head back. "Did you just say _anodyne pabulum_?"

Albus glares. "What music do _you_ like, Teddy?"

Teddy has a feeling any answer will be the wrong answer. "I like Weeping Vibrations."

Scorpius makes a face, but Albus says, "I respect that."

James turns, tucking his legs under his arse. "Aren't they some weird fucking magi-psychedelic rock?"

"I also like Troubled Phoenix," Teddy ventures.

"Mate," Albus says, "I can't support you on that one."

Scorpius, lying fully on top of Albus now, starts to giggle again.

"What about Quinn Rex?" Teddy asks.

Scorpius's head pops up and he turns serious. "No, please let's not get Albus started on indie folk." He looks at Albus. "You know I agree with you, and I love you, but I'm still recovering from that debate at Matty's house."

"Let's play a game," James says brightly, clapping his hands, and Teddy thinks that it's a poorly disguised attempt to change the subject, but Albus seems to go along with it.

"What game?" Scorpius asks, a big smile on his face as he sits up and pours another glass of Firewhisky.

"Uno," James says, his eyes sparkling with challenge, and Albus groans.

Scorpius, face confused, turns to Teddy with a question in his eyes. Oh shit. Scorpius is looking to Teddy to explain the Potter-family thing that he doesn't understand. But of course, Teddy doesn't understand either.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to go through this again," Albus says, then takes a long sip of whisky.

"It's been years," James says. "How are you not over this by now?"

"There are some things one doesn't forget with merely the passage of time," Albus says enigmatically. "One would need a course of intensive psychotherapy."

"Because of a game called _Uno_?" Scorpius asks, turning towards Albus and dissolving again into giggles.

"Look," Albus says, and Teddy leans back in his chair. If Teddy is sure of one thing, it's that any time someone begins a sentence with "Look," it heralds drama. Albus continues, "Look, James _cheats_."

"I do not!" James cries. "I'm skillful."

Albus sits straight up and points at his brother. "You _cheat_ , and I've not figured out how, but that doesn't mean it's not true."

"I thought you pride yourself on being grounded in _data_ and _evidence_ , Al?" James mocks. "Didn't I listen to a long rant a few weeks ago about how awful people are for having beliefs they can't back up with evidence?"

Albus raises his eyes to the ceiling and sighs. "That doesn't apply to this and you know it. And you also know that I'm right."

"No way!" James says, but when he hops up to grab the cards, his back to Albus, he winks at Teddy. It's impossible to say whether the wink is an admission of guilt, or just evidence that James likes messing with Albus. Both options seem equally likely.

A sense of prickly nervousness runs through Teddy: he doesn't know how to play this game. Leave it to him to get outed on a mission because he doesn't know the rules to a card game. He's clearly supposed to know how to play.

"Okay," Scorpius says, "how long is it going to take me to learn this game, on a scale of Gobstones to Risk? I just need to mentally prepare myself."

Teddy can't help but smile—if Scorpius doesn't know how to play, Teddy might be able to avoid making a fool of himself, or worse, revealing himself. Plus, Scorpius's willingness to play any game with Albus, even one like _Risk_ (which Ron once got for Christmas and then he and Draco spent half a year forcing Teddy to play with them), is enough to make anyone believe in the power of love.

"Gobstones," Albus says, and Scorpius exhales. "Oh, good. I've had quite a lot of whisky."

James starts explaining as he shuffles the cards. "Yeah, no sweat, Scorp. We each get seven cards, they're mostly colour and number. Then there's a draw pile and we go round and each person has to put down a card that matches either the colour or number. Otherwise the cards have separate instructions on them and you can use those as they say."

"Youngest first!" Albus crows, sticking out his tongue at James, and Teddy starts to laugh at how these two revert to their old roles when they're in the right context.

"You are _still_ sore that Lily always got to go first, aren't you?" James asks with an amused smile.

"Don't pretend to understand the plight of the middle child," Albus lectures.

James takes a long sip of whisky, then sets down the glass and stands, brandishing his hand in a little bow as he proclaims, "Overlooked! Forgotten! Never first nor last! The one with the weird name! The poor emo child of Slytherin! The snake in the lion den! The one who isn't like his dad! The Boy Who—"

"Will you stop," Albus says, rolling his eyes, but his mouth tugs up in a smile and Teddy finds himself wondering if the same words would've been hurtful had James said them a few years ago.

"The goal is to get rid of all your cards first," James explains, "but when you're left with only one card you have to say, 'Uno.' If you don't say 'Uno,' you can't win."

"Okay but, house rules," Albus says seriously. "Only bisexuals can play _Draw Two,_ only pansexuals can play _Wild_ card, only demisexuals or asexuals can play _Skip_ , and only poly people can play _Draw Four._ "

Scorpius starts to laugh uncontrollably.

"What if I consider myself bi _or_ pan?" Teddy asks, and they all turn to look at him.

"For the purposes of this game, you have to choose one," Albus says. "Sorry, I don't make the rules."

"Except," Scorpius giggles, "you literally did make the rules."

"You forgot the _Reverse_ card, Al," James says. "Only gay people can play _Reverse._ That one doesn't work as well but, well."

"Teddy," Al says, "declare your allegiance so we know what card you can play."

Teddy frowns. "What's a better card, _Wild_ or _Draw Two_?"

"You can't choose on the basis of the cards!" Albus objects at the same time as James says, " _Wild_."

Teddy laughs and finishes his whiskey. "Alright, I'm pan."

"Gay," James says, then points at Al, who says, "Demi," then Scorpius, who says, "Bi."

"That was strange," Scorpius says, wrinkling his nose. "It was like we were counting off for teams in flying lessons with Hooch."

"Whatever, we're always strange," James says. "If you haven't realised that by now, Scorp, I can't help you. So if you get one of the cards you can't use, you have to put it at the bottom of the discard pile and choose another."

James looks completely ridiculous. His hair is mussed from an impression he did earlier (of Barnaby Fuchs), his lips are slightly smoking from Firewhisky, his eyes are bright with excitement and alcohol, and he has (characteristically) stripped off his jumper to reveal a tight t-shirt he was wearing underneath. He's casting shuffling charms at the deck of Uno cards (the box of which says _Age 7+!_ ), propped up squatting on his feet, which are sporting bright blue socks with little owls on them.

Teddy feels so much better than he did before, and he knows it's because James made a point to cheer him up, because James _saw_ him, because James cares, because James wants to use his abundant exuberance and enthusiasm to cheer him up.

Teddy's heart clenches, and he realises with a start that he's never felt this way about anyone before. He's felt desire, sure, and something that he would've called _love_. He loved Vic once, he thinks, and he enjoyed Colm, the boyfriend he had after Vic, well enough. He enjoyed their company, felt a primal desire for their bodies. But James seems to give—or to have the potential to give—Teddy something more. James is a person who takes up space, and his space-taking somehow fills holes and gaps in Teddy that he had never even realised were there; he understands things no one else has ever understood; he has an intuitive sense that leaves Teddy in awe.

His _want_ feels like a pain in the centre of his gut, and he takes a deep breath to try to push away the sensation. He watches, transfixed, as Albus starts the game, and they proceed around in a circle. Scorpius can't stop laughing at the Uno cards, which Teddy supposes is to be expected because he's filled his glass yet again.

Albus is on Scorpius's right, so he keeps looking at Scorpius, assessing, and making observations about what he thinks is in Scorpius's hand and trying to guess which cards Scorpius won't be able to play. "I don't think you have any red," Albus muses, "because it would reflect off your hair."

Scorpius laughs, but manages to keep his cards concealed.

"Al," James sighs, "this really isn't a game that involves this much skill."

Albus stares Scorpius in the eye and, without breaking eye contact, slaps down a green two on top of the green five Teddy had played.

Scorpius bursts into laughter at the serious look on Albus's face and then tries to stop laughing, spluttering, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, just—" but he loses it and ends up doubled over again. "I guess the green doesn't reflect off my hair," he says, as he laughingly throws down a green _Draw Two_.

"Fuck you, Scorpius," James says, a fond smile on his face as he picks up two cards and cedes his turn. "Playing the literal bi card on me."

Scorpius, predictably, laughs.

Teddy, who is somewhat distracted by the way James is smiling into his dimple, doesn't have any greens, so he decides to play his single _Wild_ card, even though he suspects that you're supposed to save those.

"Declare a colour, oh _Wild_ one," Albus says, grinning.

"Red." Teddy has a few reds.

Albus's grin turns to an immediate scowl. "Oh, low blow. I have no reds, and you have forced me to relive all of my adolescent angst about not being Gryffindor enough for my family."

"Don't blame me," Teddy laughs, holding his hands up defensively before filling his glass again.

Albus looks at his hand of cards as if it's a family of blast-ended skrewts. Scorpius sits up next to him and looks at his cards.

"Hey," Albus objects, nudging Scorpius with his shoulder. "Cheating."

Scorpius makes a noise of vague disagreement and leans into Albus's lap space. At first it seems like he is going to point at the cards, but then his hand lands somewhere out of view.

Teddy's eyes widen and he turns to James, who smiles and then looks back at his brother and his brother's not-now-and-never-shall-be-husband.

"I bet I can make you forget about the game," Scorpius says, nuzzling his head into Albus's neck, and holy crap, Teddy cannot watch this. He looks up at the ceiling, clearing his throat a bit, and hears James say, "You know Scorp, it's really not an indictment of your wiles if Albus keeps playing. Albus and I have a long history of—oh."

James cuts off and there's noise of movement. Teddy forces his eyes to stay trained on the ceiling; there's a bizarre lighting fixture up there hung with red and gold magical light orbs, and it makes Teddy smile because he appreciates that Harry—in any universe—has never escaped his love of Gryffindor colours. At least, Teddy tries to focus on this, because someone just let out a moan.

Suddenly Teddy feels cold, strong fingers tugging at his wrist. He opens his eyes.

James stands there, looking down at him, amused but exasperated. "I'm afraid if we don't leave, we're about to see more of my brother's naked body than I've seen since I was about ten years old."

Teddy allows James to pull him up, and smiles at his sparkling hazel eyes. "You saw him naked a lot when you were ten?"

James laughs, his dimple creasing in a lopsided way that makes Teddy want to lick it. _Fuck._ "Well, you remember what it was like here back then. Of all the rules Mum and Dad ever tried to enforce in this house, the _trousers required downstairs_ rule of 2010 was probably the one they most failed at."

As they start to walk out of the room, Teddy makes the mistake of reaching over to grab the bottle of whisky. The whisky isn't the mistake, the mistake is the view of Albus and Scorpius he accidentally gleans while reaching for it: Albus has climbed into Scorpius's lap and Scorpius's hands have pushed Albus's trousers over his arse.

Teddy spins around, holding the whisky in front of him and grimacing. "Didn't mean to see that."

James laughs and tugs his wrist, leading him back out through the kitchen into the garden. "Shit, it's cold."

Teddy pulls his wand and casts a warming charm around them both.

James turns with a challenging grin. "You promised Dad you wouldn't cast any spells while drunk."

Teddy laughs. Was he supposed to have taken that seriously? Last time Teddy was drunk, he was _with_ Harry, and Harry and Draco had challenged him to a Patronus race. And Harry had Levitated himself five feet into the air to test his theory that a Patronus would have a better chance if it got started at a higher altitude. "Er, I didn't think he was serious. I am twenty-eight years old."

James smiles, but the smile takes on an odd twist. "You'd be serious about it, too, if you'd been in St Mungo's with your kid for a week last year."

Oh shit. Teddy is never going to get used to all the things here he doesn't know. That he's _supposed_ to know. But it's not just the mission that makes it ache—the realisation that he's missed something important, something integral to this family, makes him ache with longing. He _wants_ to know all the little details about James and Albus and Lily's childhoods, about Harry as a dad.

It's like when you meet a new lover and you have to learn all the details of their life and their family. Even with Victoire, whom he'd known for ages as sort-of-family-friends and schoolmates, it had taken him months to understand even a sliver of the dynamics going on in the extended Weasley family, and he'd never even scratched the surface of understanding her mum's family. It's odd, though, because he doesn't usually feel this way around Harry. It's like walking into his parents' house and finding that he knows nothing about them. It's easier with James, because James is someone he just met, so at least it doesn't feel quite like that. But with James comes Harry and talk of Harry, and with Albus comes Scorpius comes Draco—

"Oh," Teddy winces. "Right." He pauses, feeling suddenly awkward. "More firewhisky?"

"Forgot the glasses," James says, but grabs the bottle out of Teddy's hands and takes a sip straight from the bottle.

"Are they always so…" Teddy trails off, glancing back towards the house.

"Yeah," James says. "Honestly, they were like that even before they got together. Not that they would climb into each other's laps before they were dating, but you know." He pauses. "Well, at least as far as I can remember they didn't crawl into each other's laps, but I wouldn't have put it past them."

Teddy's head swims with whisky, and his body is pleasantly warm and buzzy, and James is so appealing Teddy feels magnetised. It strikes him with a bit of a mentally addled jolt that he's thinking of James like a new lover, not like someone he has a passing fancy for. He's not fixating on James's body (though that's good too, his brain admits sloshedly) or imagining a scenario in which they end up in bed together. He's trying to figure out the intricacies of James's childhood and how best to fit in with his family and imagining it like he-and-James across the table playing games with Albus-and-Scorpius, and oh fucking hell, he is not meant to be thinking like this. James isn't a new lover; James is supposed to be his old family, and _this_ is why people don't travel between universes—forget the possibility of information contamination and increasing fucking universal entropy or whatever—it's this, the possibility that you might fall into a family that you didn't know you belonged to and fall in love with a person who shouldn't exist and who, if he does exist, is supposed to be like your fucking brother.

But he's not. He's not Teddy's brother. Teddy doesn't have a brother. Teddy has a loving, swotty dad with a wicked sense of humour that people never expect, and a clumsy, hilarious mum who has somehow managed to achieve professional success wherein everyone reveres her despite the fact that Teddy has never once seen her act serious. Teddy has a really far-reaching only-child syndrome that's compounded by a set of issues he's just now coming to understand, which centre around being the child of war heroes and the closest person there is to the child of the Chosen One. Teddy has zero siblings and exactly one cousin—Draco, and even he is once-removed. If Teddy's certain of one thing, it's that he doesn't have a brother or anything like a brother.

Teddy looks at James. The moonlight pools on his face, somehow illuminating his freckles and dimple even in the darkness, and Teddy steps forward without thinking. "Do you ever get jealous of them?" he asks, though he can barely hold onto the thread of conversation about Albus and Scorpius.

James's eyes widen. "Of which one of them? Scorpius? Nah, Albus is a pain in the arse. Albus? Nah, Scorpius is too…pure? No, it's not about that. Too upbeat. Not wry enough." James grins, still looking wary at Teddy's nearness.

"That's not what I meant," Teddy says. "I mean, do you get jealous of Albus-and-Scorpius?"

James's gaze pierces; he looks somehow confused, but when he speaks he sounds as sure as he always does. "Hard to be too jealous when there's no one available who fits you that well. Some people don't get someone who fits them like that. Fuck, _most_ people don't get someone who fits them like that."

The words hit Teddy like a punch in the gut. How can James feel that way? How can he think—? "But what if there were?"

"Huh?" James asks, brow crinkling in the moonlight, his eyes flitting to Teddy’s lips and then back to Teddy’s eyes, apprehensive. 

Teddy doesn’t want James to be apprehensive, to feel like he doesn’t have someone.

"What if there is someone who fits you like that?" Teddy asks, and closes the gap between them, scratching his fingers into James's hair—which is surprisingly soft, parting between his fingers easily in fine strands—and leaning closer to bring their mouths together. _Yes,_ this is right, he thinks. This, this. This is right. The multiverse feels like it's heading towards righting itself, and Teddy's gut relaxes. And the butterflies are from eager anticipation and certainty that James wants it too and a sudden disappearance of the sense of wrongness he's had since he first appeared in this garden.

But before he can feel more than hot breath on his face, James places two hands on his chest and pushes him violently backward.

Teddy blinks. What?

When James speaks, his voice is furious, unlike any tone Teddy has ever heard from him. "What. The. Fuck."

Teddy opens his mouth—to say what, he's not sure—but James cuts him off.

"What the fuck. _What the fuck?_ You. Are. Married." James punctuates the words with jabbing finger points.

At the words, Teddy's spine seems to liquefy or something, because he suddenly feels like he can't stand. He wobbles. He has to explain. He has to make sure James doesn't think poorly of him. He has to explain that he's never fucking met Brianna and has no idea anything about her and he can't be cheating if he's never met the person. "No, James, I'm not—"

"Shut the fuck up," James says warningly, stepping back. He doesn't seem angry so much as wary, protective. Like he's protecting himself. Like he wishes he had a shield. "I am not going to listen to some fucking concocted sob story about how you're not really married. That's the oldest fucking trick in the book. 'Oh, I'm going to leave her so it's not really cheating, come on!'" He sings the words with a mocking sneer. "You are fucking better than that and I am sure as fuck too smart to fall for it."

Teddy opens his mouth once more before he realises that he has absolutely no way to defend himself. He can't explain. There's nothing he can even say. Even if he were willing to risk Nettles's wrath by telling James the truth, he can't tell the truth _now._ James would never believe him. Even the thought of it, ‘No, don't worry, I'm not cheating on my wife because I'm actually from another universe!’ sends a chill up his spine. He says nothing.

James folds his arms over his chest and stares at Teddy for a long second. The jut of his chin is somehow both challenging and bracing, as if daring Teddy to try to say anything else in response.

"Sorry," Teddy says eventually, and the word sounds pitiful, like one drop of rain when what's needed is a flood.

"Sleep it off," James says, voice tight, and then he turns and walks back into the house. The door slams behind him.

Teddy slides to the ground and tries to breathe.


	3. Chapter 3

Teddy wakes the next morning to the news (delivered through a much-too-chipper Harry) that James left early for some impromptu training at the team facilities in Dorset.

Teddy isn't surprised, but it still makes the pain in his chest clench like a vice. "Did he say anything else?"

"Said he won't be back till late," Harry answers, rummaging through the cupboard. "What about you? You have secretive work things today, or were James and Albus too much of a bad influence last night?"

Harry turns around with a box of Frooty Cauldrons in his hand. His face is so kind, so understanding, so much like a _dad_ and not like his Harry, and Teddy feels like shit, guilt and shame and rejection coursing through his body like acid.

"I do have to go out," Teddy lies, and an owl raps on the window, as if he had somehow Summoned it.

Harry reaches, one foot raising at least a foot off the floor for counter-balance, and unlatches the window. The owl hoots at him once, then flies straight past his head and lands on the table next to Teddy.

Teddy removes the letter from his leg and Harry throws it an owl treat.

_Unspeakable Lupin,_

_Proceed to Level Nine immediately._

_Nettles._

__Teddy sighs. There's no way he's going before he has a shower and some breakfast, even if it's just a bowl of Frooty Cauldrons. He downed a Sobering Potion before bed, knowing he'd feel like shit in the morning even if he wasn't hungover, but he is still gross and morning-aftery.

"Duty calls?" Harry guesses, and Teddy can tell that he's fishing for information. He wishes he could oblige.

"Yeah, I've got to go in. I'll have some cereal with you first, though, if that's okay?"

"Sure," Harry says with a bright smile, and Teddy loves that Harry loves spending time with him.

Teddy walks forward and wraps Harry in a tight hug. Harry meets his hug with a firm, fatherly grip. He smells of soap and coffee and Teddy has the preposterous urge to cry, because he's been holding it all together on his own and the palpable loving, protective concern coming off of Harry makes him feel safe and not alone. This Harry may not be _his_ Harry—but he's so close.

Harry rubs a comforting hand on Teddy's back and whispers, "I remember that the parenting books say I shouldn't ask _Is everything okay?_ but I don't remember what I'm supposed to say instead."

Teddy snorts. "Just the hug is good."

Harry squeezes tighter for a moment. "Just a hug. And cereal. Anything for you."

Fifteen minutes later, stomach full of sugary carbs that won't keep him full past ten am, Teddy strips off yesterday's boxers and t-shirt and steps into the shower. It's like the shower in his flat and the one in his parents' house, with charms for temperature regulation and soap dispensing, and it feels good. But it's not as nice as the shower in Harry and Draco's house. That shower is _ridiculous._ There are few things on which Harry and Draco can both agree are worth spending some of their combined fortune. Sure, their home and their stuff is nice, better than nice, but it's not extravagant. What's extravagant is the list of charities they each fund, and the arguments they get into over whether the All-Weather Soup Kitchen or Godric's Academy Primary need the money more. Still, on the things they use a lot, like the kitchen and the shower, they allow themselves a splurge. Their shower is the best thing Teddy's ever experienced, which is saying something because he's had a good bit of sex in his life, passed Unspeakable Training, and won all the levels of Harry's old Guitar Hero. Their shower has water coming from all directions, and the different streams are different temperatures to adjust to what part of your body they hit. The stream hitting your back is hotter and harder than the stream hitting your nipples. The concentrated stream that follows the back of your head, no matter where you move, gets the shampoo out in no time, and it even has a built-in shaving option that shaves whatever body parts you request. And it uses Amortentia technology to smell maximally appealing to any user.

Teddy sighs, lost in his nostalgia for Harry's shower in another universe. But any shower will wash away the lingering whiskey. At least, it washes off yesterday's smells, if not yesterday's shame.

It keeps replaying in his mind—the look on James's face when he pushed Teddy away. The look of betrayal and hurt and something that amounts to _I thought you were better than that._ Teddy lets his head fall against the wall of the shower and closes his eyes. He tries to remember the meditation exercises he learned in Unspeakable Training, but it's no use. James's disappointed face swims back into his mind, no matter how many times he exhales it away.

How could he have been so dumb? When he was in training, he sat through lecture after lecture about not letting your guard down when undercover or in a compromising position. He remembers Flora Nelson, that old battle-axe, telling them that while the Aurors are fond of mindless repetition of the mantra "Constant vigilance," it is Unspeakables, not Aurors, whose work requires them to remain on the qui vive. Teddy should've said no to getting drunk, but even drunk he should've been able to prevent himself doing _that._

__It should feel like an error in judgment, a mistake at work.

But it doesn’t. The rejection hurts. He had been so sure that James would reciprocate, and he’s not even sure why he had thought that. It’s not like James had been making moves on him, or saying anything that would make him think it was okay to go and do _that._ But somehow drunk Teddy had been sure James wanted him, too, that it wasn’t just him.

The water pounds the side of his face, and he pushes a soggy clump of brown hair off his face. Usually his hair is turquoise in the shower. Another reminder of his terrible mental state.

He gets out and shivers. James's face. He grabs a red towel. James's face.

He cracks open the door to the corridor, peering out, though he's not sure why he bothers—neither Harry nor Ginny will blink at seeing him in a towel. Inside Lily's room, he drops the towel. The wardrobe is full of clothes that don't belong to him—the clothes Lily didn't take to Hogwarts (a feathered green crop top catches his eye), a mismatch of clothes he's borrowed from Harry's, James's, and Albus's drawers. But he can't bring himself to wear any of those right now.

The clothes Teddy wore when he came to this universe are stuffed in the back. He hits them with a Laundering Charm and pulls them on, relishing the feel of his own clothes after a long stint wearing ones that don't fit right. Folding from the waist, he rolls up the hem of the trousers, sliding his feet into his boots and lacing them with an _Annecto._ He slides his cardigan off its hanger and presses his nose into it, smelling, hoping to catch a scent—any scent—of home.

And it's there, even after his Laundering Charm—Narcissa's Samhain incense. It settles his tight chest and stomach: it's real. He's not insane.

He shoves his arms into the sleeves and pulls it around him, imagining it's a protective cloak that will keep him grounded in reality. Whatever reality is for him, now.

He pushes away James's face as he jogs down the stairs, waves goodbye to Harry, and Floos to the Ministry.

There's a witch collecting holiday donations; time has somehow flown. Teddy feels like a scrooge for not donating, even though he doesn't have any coins on him, only his Gringotts card. How is it already the end of November? Teddy hasn't _used_ his Gringotts card since he's been here, since he assumes it won't work, and he probably owes James some Galleons. Fuck. He tries to stop thinking of James as he gets in the lift.

Of course James pushed him away. James isn't the type of person to let a married man kiss him. James is constitutionally incapable of ever doing _anything_ in secret (a few days ago he'd announced, "I'm taking a shit now"). James having an affair is unthinkable. One day he'd even told Teddy, "That hair colour looks awful on you. Sorry, I just had to tell you. I couldn't think it in silence all day."

Teddy wants to grab James by the shoulders and scream, "I'm not married!!!!!" Well, no one is in the lift; he may as well let it out. He tries to freeze the image of James's face in his mind and yells it, his voice reverberating with all of his desperation to be understood: "I'M NOT MARRIED!"

The doors to the lift clank open and a startled-looking witch takes a step backward, mumbling about waiting for the next lift.

When the doors shut, Teddy bangs his head on the wall. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He pushes James's face out of his mind.

“Level Nine, Department of Mysteries.”

Teddy walks out and through the maze of black tile corridors with the muscle memory of a person who has walked this path every day for years. The only odd thing is that the people here don't recognise him; they eye him with suspicion, wondering why he's here. Unspeakables are a notoriously insular bunch.

He rounds a corner and Imelda calls out, "Unspeakable Lupin! What took you so long?"

Teddy sighs. This is one thing about this job that's always annoyed him. It's like an authoritarian regime of Ravenclaws—they get so excited about research breakthroughs that they call people in with no thought to time of day and can't understand why you wouldn't be running to get here. Teddy cares about breakthroughs, too, but he also likes sitting on his sofa with the enormous yellow and black afghan, which his dad knitted him after he was Sorted Hufflepuff, reading trash novels. Some of his coworkers give off the impression they've never once relaxed on a sofa. One time his Floo roared at two o'clock in the morning because a lizard had woken up. Granted, Teddy was also excited to test the lizard, but Teddy's excitement only manifests in daylight hours.

"I had to get dressed," he says, trying to channel patience. 

"Well go on," she demands, shooing him towards Nettles's office with her hands.

Teddy stuffs his fists into the pockets of the long cardigan and walks through the door.

He's met with a scene he's never seen before—Tajik and Haradas are _smiling at each other._

__"Hello," he says, feeling awkward as he lets his bag slide off his shoulder and onto the floor by the door.

"Lupin!" Nettles booms and claps his hands. "Excellent! I will be much more at ease once you are not in our universe. Let's get your arse out of here."

Teddy scrunches his nose. "You figured out how to—?"

"Yes, yes," Nettles says, "we've got the chamber that can manipulate the veil, the potion, et cetera, and I've clearance from Minister Granger herself to send you back, according to my wishes, rather than to keep you here, according to Hancock's. We've run a number of simulations, and we have no reason to think you _returning_ to your world would cause a problem when your being here hasn't."

Teddy looks around the room and isn't surprised to see that Bev isn't here. They wouldn't invite someone who disagreed with their plan. "What about Bev?" Teddy asks, flooded with concern for them being torn from their family.

"Unspeakable Hancock is to be permitted to remain here, but will go through an official registration process with the Ministry. We do not assume that many—or any—more universe travellers will end up here, but Minister Granger is of the opinion we must systematise the infrastructure."

"In fact," Haradas says, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "she wants to figure out a way to send correspondence to herself in other universes to get the system implemented everywhere, rather than just here."

Teddy smiles. That sounds like the Hermione he knows. "Alright," he says, trying to put off his clash of emotions about going home until it's necessary. "So we should schedule this, then."

"Schedule it?" Nettles laughs, resting his hands on his belly. "Oh no. We're doing it now. We've already written up a letter for you to send to the Potters explaining your sudden departure. Took Unspeakable Haradas ages to come up with the most effective language. We just need you to read it and make sure it fits with your experience in the field."

His _experience in the field._ Teddy's ears start to buzz. _We're doing it now._ He's not ready. He hasn't said goodbye. He hasn't fixed this thing with James. He hasn't even figured out how he's feeling about everything.

James's face.

"But— _now?_ " he breathes, panic hitting his chest, and he can feel heat flushing his face. "I need to make a proper exit, I need to—"

"No, no," Nettles says, not unkindly, but Teddy wants to punch him. "You submit copies of your memories and we'll take care of the rest. We are going to try to avoid memory modification of the Potters, but depending what the team discovers about your time there, it may be necessary to prevent incongruities with the Teddy Lupin in this universe. We're tracking the other Teddy, of course. We can't be too careful."

Teddy's knees buckle, but there's a chair behind him and he lands on the edge of the cushion with a thump. "Please don't modify their memories," he says, and his throat is tight and his eyes are prickling and oh fuck he's going to cry. He's going to cry here in this office with his boss and all these heads of departments and they're all going to think he is bad at his job, incapable of keeping emotion out of the _mission._

__But he can't bear the thought of James having never met him. He can't live in a world, fuck, a _universe_ , a _multiverse_ , where James hasn't met him or he hasn't met James. They're not planning to modify Teddy's memory, as it will be key to the follow-up with the Unspeakables in his universe, and he would know and James wouldn't— He tries to breathe. James's face. It doesn't even matter that James rejected him. He just can't—it would mean—it would mean losing his chance.

A tear wells in the corner of his eye. His chance is lost, no matter what. He's being sent home.

"Unspeakable Lupin," Haradas says. "Teddy."

He looks up. Shruthi's dark eyes are kind, and it's clear she's seeing his pain. "With your consent I'm going to cast a calming charm in accordance with Regulation 1824 part C."

Her words are official words, and they don't fit with this situation. He pushes himself back in the seat. "No. No! You don't have my consent."

Shruthi squats down on her heels. "You're having a panic attack. It's to be expected in these sorts of—"

"No," Teddy repeats. "I'm not numbing myself. Not from this. I need to feel the pain or else I won't know what's real and what's fake. I'll lose track of reality. I'll lose my mind." His words sound hysterical even to his own ears.

"Suit yourself," Nettles says, "on the condition that you have yourself seen to when you get home. Give him the letter for his approval."

Shruthi hands Teddy a parchment.

_Dear Harry, Ginny, and boys,_

_And boys_? Teddy thinks, horrified. "Can I have a pen for annotations and corrections?"

Shruthi selects a green quill from the desk. Teddy recognises it as an editing quill—it will incorporate his changes into the letter, leaving it looking as if it had always been in the edited form. He crosses out "and boys," replacing it with, "James, Albus, Scorpius, and Lily."

_I've been called back to Melbourne on urgent business and have to leave immediately. I tried to arrange a later Portkey, giving me time to come back to your house, but it wasn't possible._

_I'm sorry to repay your hospitality with such an ungracious farewell._

_I've enjoyed seeing you all. Next time I visit, it'll have to be for longer!_

_Take care,  
Teddy_

__Teddy stares at the words for long minutes. They're wrong. Every word is wrong. But he can't think of a single thing to change to make it better. There's no way to make these words right. He nods and hands the quill and parchment back to Shruthi.

"Do you have all your belongings with you?" Nettles asks, and Teddy looks down at his bag. Everything is in it, because he didn't have much. He nods.

"Good. Here's a folder with everything you'll need when you return to Level Nine in your universe. There's a magicked and signed certificate proving that you've been here, which my counterpart will know what to do with. There's a case file with all of the information about your time here, including important events and contacts you've made that have the potential to become crisis points. We don't think that's likely, though, given your containment while here. There's also a recommendation for your post-assignment health care, including a protocol for time-space-universe-displacement trauma and health markers for research. Any questions?"

Teddy stares at his boss. He has loads of questions. _When can I see James again?_ for example. He says nothing.

"Great. Unspeakable Tajik, can you show Unspeakable Lupin to the veil manipulation chamber?"

"Wait," Teddy says, his voice thin.

Nettles raises an eyebrow.

"Is it alright if I go say goodbye to Bev?"

"Alright," Nettles says. "We need to finalise this paperwork, anyway."

Teddy nods and runs from the room before they can change their minds. There's no running away from this. The Unspeakables would find him and send him back by force within an hour of him trying to run. Plus, he _wants_ to go home. He misses his parents and grandmother and Harry and Draco and his flat and his work. It’s that he wants to stay, too.

No, he can't run. His brain whirrs, trying to sort through all possible choices. He can't leave things like this with James. It's bad even from Nettles's perspective, because it will create an unresolved issue between James and an unsuspecting Other Teddy. His only choice is to figure out a way to get some closure with James.

He _should_ tell Nettles what happened last night, but there's no way he's doing that. He can barely take a step without being assaulted with the image of James rejecting him; there's no way he can describe it in words to his boss. Nettles will have to have a heart attack about that later, when he views Teddy's Pensieve memories, when Teddy is safely out of reach in another universe.

Teddy walks to Bev's desk, knowing he has to say something to James, but not knowing what he _can_ say. There’s a Quidditch poster hanging above their desk, along with photos of their kids.

Bev looks up, surprised. "Unspeakable Lupin."

“How’s it going?” Teddy asks automatically, cringing at how forced the words sound. It’s not like he’s had a chance to get to know them.

Bev raises an eyebrow. “Fine?”

Teddy says nothing. He doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m working on a report,” Bev says, seeming to want to fill the silence, “showing that the theory of a quilted multiverse is not self-consistent due to the instability of entropy decrease under small perturbations.”

“Oh?”

“So I’m proposing a theory that includes only those universes where the minimal entropy occurs at the same instant of cosmological time.”

Teddy leans his hand on Bev’s desk. “They’re sending me back. Now—with no warning.”

Bev leans back in their chair. “Do you _want_ to go back?” Their voice is softer than it was before, and Teddy feels slight relief that at least Bev understands some of what this is like.

“I mean, yes,” Teddy says. “But—”

Bev sighs. “Yeah.”

Teddy looks behind him, over his shoulder. "I didn’t get to say goodbye to James."

They scrunch their nose, contemplating him. “James _Potter_? From Puddlemere United?”

Teddy can’t help but smile. He’s sure James must have tons of fans, but he’s never witnessed any of them. “Yeah.”

“He’s fucking wicked,” Bev says, sitting up straighter. “That Woollongong Shimmy he did in the last game against the Harpies—”

“I haven’t seen him play,” Teddy realises, and gets sad all over again thinking he’ll never have a chance to see James fly.

“Oh shit,” Bev says, staring at Teddy and pointing a finger. “You fell for him. Fuck, mate.”

“No!” Teddy claims, but then he sighs. “Was I that obvious?”

“No,” Bev says, grinning. “I’m just that smart.”

“They’re making me go home,” Teddy says. “But I’ll be leaving things...wrong. With James. That can’t be good for the stability of the multiverse.”

“Are you trying to use the stability of the multiverse as an excuse to get in James Potter’s pants?”

“No!” Teddy says, laughing, trying to push away the complex emotions that the phrase _James Potter’s pants_ brings up. “I don’t want to leave without explaining myself to him, at least.”

Bev scrunches their nose. “But you can’t tell him. And not just because it’s against protocol. You don’t know how he’ll react.”

“He scored an 11 on the TTRA,” Teddy says, knowing how petulant he sounds.

“You gave him the TTRA?!” Bev laughs.

“Yeah, but like—subtly.” Teddy pauses, brain whirring. “I can't just _leave—_ you understand." Teddy is pleading now, and he doesn't even care. "Your family. You understand."

Bev sighs. “Yeah. Write him a letter? I can get it to him.”

“Are you angling for excuse to get an autograph?” Teddy asks with a grin, but he’s flooded with relief.

Bev shrugs and smiles. “Have you tried to break your vow here?”

“No.”

“Well, good, because the vow doesn’t work in different universes. I figured that out. So you could say anything to anyone here and the vow wouldn’t shut you up. So you can write a letter to him, no problem.”

“Thank you,” Teddy whispers.

"Just don't write something stupid that will implode the fucking multiverse," Bev says, resting their elbow on the desk and propping their face in their hand. “And I won’t be able to talk to him about it.”

_James,_

__Teddy doesn't know what else to write.

He wants to write everything, the truth. An odd Ravenclawish voice sounds in his head, saying, "What _is_ truth across universes, anyway?"

But he can't tell James. He wishes there were some kind of protocol he could follow, but of course he has to be one of the first inter-universal travellers on record.

Except. Except they've been using the departmental history of time-travelling as a template for dealing with inter-universal travel.

There _is_ a protocol, and Teddy's already fulfilled the first step, administering the TTRA. What remains is to use the evidence-based procedures for divulging information to someone who has passed the TTRA. He closes his eyes, trying to remember. He hasn't used this in ages, but the words come back to him.

_I have some news that may shock you, but I will explain and hope to answer all of your questions. You may cast a Veracity Charm, if you like._

__His mind calls up the page of his training book, which listed the protocol as, "I am from _______. I was sent here by _______ to _______. I can prove my identity by _______. I will be here until _______."

It's tedious, but it works.

_I am from another universe. I don't mean that metaphorically, and for the record, I'd never try to make up after a fight with bizarre and vague metaphors like that. I'm really a come-out-and-say-it kind of bloke. I mean it literally—I was born in a universe where you do not exist. Your dad didn't marry your mum and doesn't have kids. Best I can tell, it's a universe where things diverged from your universe because, among other things, my parents didn't die in the war._

_I was sent here accidentally in the course of my work as an Unspeakable studying the multiverse. When I arrived in your back garden, I had no idea what was happening. I can't prove my identity to you by letter (beyond the Veracity Charm you're welcome to cast at this), so it's up to you whether you choose to believe this or not. But then again, you only ever do anything because you choose to, so I'm not sure why I clarified that._

_The Unspeakables here have figured out how to send me back and they're making me go now. I tried to get them to delay, but they're insistent that I leave immediately so as not to cause an incongruity. It's hard to explain without getting too technical, but it would be bad if I got my picture in the paper or something and then the Teddy from your universe—who is in Australia—saw it._

_I'm sorry I can't say goodbye. I'm sorry I got drunk and tried to kiss you. As you can see, if you believe this letter, I'm not married. I forgot I was even supposed to be married. I've never met a person named Brianna. And what the fuck, you're only supposed to be in danger of having an affair if you're actually in a relationship with someone. Which I'm not._

_I want to go back home, because I miss my family, but I don't want to go to a universe you're not in. I don't have a choice, but it's making me feel like the entire fabric of existence is crumbling. Because you exist. I'm so sure you exist. You're real, and vibrant, and funny, and confident, and you fill up any room you're in. You're_ real _and I can't reconcile it with knowing you won't exist. My brain is stuck, like your dad's old phonograph that skips every time and always makes Celestina Warbeck sing, "My chest is one big hole, big hole, big hole, big hole" (as a matter of interest, it does that in both universes)._

_I don't know how else to explain myself, at least without sounding like Celestina. I didn't try to kiss you because I wanted to cheat on my wife. I would never do that. Well, I guess I have no idea what the other Teddy would do, but I wouldn't. I haven't even been interested in anyone in ages. My mum and grandmother are always trying to get me to date more, to "have fun," but I never want to. But I did—I had fun with you. And my mum was right, it's worth the effort. Having fun with you was worth all this bullshit and existential nonsense. You make me want to have fun. You make me want to stop working and go rock climbing. You make me want to bake muffins instead of eating Frooty Cauldrons. I don't want to live in a universe where you aren't there to understand me and to have perfect intuition about how best to interact with me. You answer questions I didn't even know I was asking._

_So I wasn't trying to kiss you on a whim, or because I was drunk. I tried to kiss you because I somehow fell arse over tit for you in the few weeks I've been here, and the alcohol made me dumb enough to forget I was supposed to be pretending that wasn't the case._

_I know there's nothing to be done about it now, and maybe it's not fair of me to tell you any of this, but I thought it might set your mind at ease to understand, especially when you see the other Teddy. Don't punish him for my idiocy. Be angry at me, not him._

_I'm going to miss you._

_Thank you. Every word of this sounds like complete nonsense—I'm sorry.  
Teddy_

__He stops, his hand cramping, and looks at the letter. It's not perfect, but he can't bring himself to re-read it. There is no perfect way to say this shit to James, he may as well just embrace the imperfection. His chest feels lighter from writing it, and he needs to trust that's a sign he's put down the words he needs to.

He folds it and writes "James Potter" on the front. Bev takes it and puts it discreetly in their desk.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Bev gives him a half smile. "No problem. Now get out of here before your presence fucks things up even more for me."

Teddy laughs and waves as he walks back to Nettles.

When he walks into the office, the group bustles with the energy of a plan being executed. They identify his memories of his time in this universe and make copies, leaving Teddy with his memory intact. They usher him to the veil manipulation chamber and call out commands. Teddy holds the strap of his bag on this shoulder and shoves his hands into his cardigan pockets. He tries to concentrate on the smell of Narcissa's incense rather than the clipped commands coming out of Tajik's mouth. He closes his eyes when he swallows the potion they hand him, and he sees James's face—not the disappointed one of last night, but the conspiratorial, laughing one he's become used to. He tries to imagine his mum's and dad's voices instead of listening to the checklist being called out by his colleagues before they send him back.

"Alright, Lupin," Nettles says, and Teddy opens his eyes. Nettles has his hands on his hips. "Time for the incantation." He hands Teddy a sheet of paper with the incantation written on it. It's different—it must be Bev's improved version.

Teddy grasps his wand. " _Velum mundorum transuo_."

He says the incantation, but he doesn't think it will work, and the moment he feels a pressure sucking at him from every direction, he can think of nothing except how rude it was of him not to say goodbye to his coworkers who have been working tirelessly to get him home to his family. The pressure crushing him from all directions is unbearable and he's going to vomit, his stomach in his throat, his feet miles away from his head and—

He slams into a stone floor and his wand clatters out of his hand.

***

Teddy's forehead is on the cold floor, his eyes squeezed shut. There's a shout. "GET NETTLES!" Running footsteps. An image of James's face.

Teddy opens his eyes, apprehensive. He better be back in _his_ universe. If he's in some random one, he's going to lose his damn mind.

Nettles runs into the room, and if Teddy were in a more normal position, he would laugh—he's never before seen Nettles hustle. Nettles jolts to a stop and hisses, "Thank fuck. Smith, Floo the Lupin-Tonkses and Potter. Oh, thank fuck."

He's been missing. He's _home._

__Nettles pulls his wand and starts casting charms at Teddy to check his identity. Teddy closes his eyes and lets Nettles’s precise yet stodgy magic wash over him. After a minute, Nettles stops casting, apparently content with Teddy’s identity.

"Unspeakable Lupin," Nettles says, and he's still out of breath, "okay. Okay.”

Teddy grabs his wand and slides it into his holster. He pushes himself to a seat. "Sir. Inter-universal travel. Worked with your counterpart in another universe. I have a file for you from them about how they got me back home."

“Let me think—” Nettles says. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think.”

Nettles lets out a breath, then sits and frowns. “What the fuck were you thinking, Lupin? How did this happen?!”

“It was a mistake—I didn’t mean to—I got stuck there!”

“Stuck where? In what universe?”

“I don’t know how to identify it precisely,” Teddy says, rubbing his face. “A universe where my parents died in the war. I was at the Potters’ house. When did you realise I was missing?”

“Second November,” Nettles says. “We’ve had the Aurors in here, and the Minister. It’s been a nightmare. There was no trace of you at all.”

A commotion sounds from somewhere down the corridor, and Teddy hears a voice shout, "Get out of my way or so help me I will morph my hands into claws and hack my way through."

"Mum," Teddy says, smiling, and pushes to a stand.

A moment later, his mum careens into the room at least a head taller than her default height, slamming into the doorframe, his dad right behind her. His mum's face is one of pure determination, and his dad's is one of fear, but when they see him they both melt with relief. Harry and Draco come running in a pace behind them, and before Teddy knows what's happening he's being wrapped in a group hug, his mum in the middle with him, clutching him in her iron grip.

"We were so, so worried," she whispers into his ear, and Teddy starts crying, his body unable to resist meltdown now he's safe. His dad runs a hand over his head, Harry laughs with relieved, nervous bursts, and Draco pats everyone's backs and doesn't seem to even notice whose back his hands land on.

Over their heads and shoulders, Teddy can see that Nettles also looks relieved, and he can't help but wonder if it's because he was concerned over a missing employee or because he'd been harassed by Teddy's worried family, who cut a pretty intimidating bunch: a veteran Auror, a Hogwarts professor, a famous member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and the Chosen One himself. Poor Nettles.

"I want to go home," Teddy says when none of them let go.

"'Fraid not," Nettles says. "You're for St Mungo's for a full evaluation."

"But—" Teddy begins, but he stops talking when he sees four sets of eyes pull back and glare at him. "Okay."

“And Lupin,” Nettles adds with an authoritative glare, “until we have time to study this situation, you can’t discuss what happened with anyone. We need to make sure we don’t—”

“Destabilise the multiverse,” Teddy finishes. “I know.”

Nettles taps a finger on the file. “Too right.” He turns to Teddy’s family. “Unspeakable Lupin has been in a parallel universe. I’m afraid that’s all we can tell you right now, not least because that’s all I know, myself.”

Tonks squeezes Teddy’s shoulder. “Another universe. Okay.”

“That’s better than so many of the things my imagination concocted,” Remus says, exhaling into his hand.

“Yeah,” Teddy says with a nervous laugh. “It’s great.”

***

Teddy blinks open his eyes. St Mungo's. The faint whirr of monitoring charms, the smell of healing magic. His mum and dad are asleep on a small sofa in the corner; his mum's arm rests on the back of the sofa, her head tipped back in sleep, and his dad has collapsed with his head in her lap and his long legs hanging over the side.

Teddy smiles faintly, because it's nice to be back, to have all the things that have been missing. He's missed them so much—it’s not that he hasn’t even gone this long without seeing them, but it was different knowing he _couldn't_ see them. He feels awful that they've been worrying about him.

A noise from the other direction catches his attention and he cranes his neck to look—Harry and Draco are on the floor, cross-legged, drinking coffee out of paper cups and bickering.

"We're too old for this," Harry says.

"We're not too old. Old is a state of mind. I need you to stop calling us old, because if you say it, it will come true. We're forty-six. My grandfather Abraxas lived to 189, and he was lithe until the very end."

"Something tells me your grandfather Abraxas didn't sit on the floor in St Mungo's."

Draco heaves a sigh. "It's not my fault the mediwitch Vanished our conjured chairs. Fire hazard, my arse. In any case, we're young and fit."

"So young," Harry says, twisting to the left to crack his back. "So fit."

Draco leans back on his long arms, his elbows hyperextending. Teddy has a vision of Narcissa gently reminding him to bend his elbows, but Narcissa isn't here. Draco wrinkles his nose. "I don't know whether to be proud of him for being the first inter-universal traveller of record, or horrified for him that he's just spent weeks in another universe not knowing if he can ever get back."

Teddy stiffens, wanting to join the conversation but simultaneously not wanting to interrupt the quiet peace of the room.

"Both," Harry sighs. "He'll be in history books for this."

"Good thing he has you to set an example of how to deal with his fame."

"Shut up."

There's a moment of silence as Harry and Draco sip their drinks. Teddy has no idea what time it is, or how long he slept. Apparently inter-universal jumps take it out of you.

"Hey," Teddy whispers, and Harry's and Draco's heads spin towards him.

They spring up from the floor, and Teddy thinks Draco's right—they're young and fit.

"Has Nettles been here?" Teddy asks, worried that he will be asked for a full explanation while wearing a St Mungo’s gown.

"No," Draco answers. "He told us they want you to rest first. I think they're worried about running afoul of Hermione's Worker Protection Act."

Teddy snorts. Leave it to the Unspeakables to ignore that Act at all turns, only to suddenly fear it _after_ something's gone wrong that affects Auror Tonks's son and Harry Potter's godson.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asks. "Should we wake your parents?" He glances at the sofa. "I don't think they've been getting much sleep since you've been missing."

"No, I'm fine," Teddy says, that pang of guilt hitting him again. "I've been physically fine all along. The jump doesn't feel that different from Apparition, actually."

"The Healers keep taking your vitals, like they're worried something will go wonky," Draco says. "But I think they're just being careful."

"But how are _you_?" Harry asks, and Teddy realises Harry and Draco, unlike the healers, are worried about far more than his vitals.

"It's weird," Teddy says, sitting up. "I don't think our human brains are supposed to deal with different universes."

Draco wraps an arm around Harry's shoulder and Harry melts against him. Teddy's brain screams _right!_

__"Do you old men want to sit on my bed?" Teddy asks with a grin.

"Yes, thank you," Harry says, sitting on the end of the bed. Draco says, "We're not old," but he sits, too.

"It's just so strange," Teddy says. "I wanted to come back, but now I know people there, too, and I—”

He sounds like a raving lunatic.

"Who?" Harry asks, trying to understand, and Teddy's throat closes up because he can’t talk about it, and because something about Harry's face looks just like James.

"Fuck," Teddy says, and scrubs a hand over his face. "Fuck."

Harry reaches a hand out and places it on Teddy's leg. "I'm not sure exactly what happened, Teds. But it's going to be okay. I don't mean that like a trite thing, I mean it like, I know what it means to come back from hard situations, and we'll all make sure you get the support you need to deal with it."

A Healer bustles into the room, her lime green robes whooshing behind her. “Mr Lupin,” she says with a smile, “you’re awake.”

Remus sits up abruptly and shakes Tonks’s shoulder. They each stand, blinking away their slumber, and walk to the bed to talk to the Healer. Tonks crosses her arms across her chest; Remus leans on the footboard of the bed.

“Hi,” Teddy says, feeling off, wrong.

“I’m Healer Dahl. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

She walks to the bed and waves her wand over him in a way that feels comfortingly professional. Teddy can almost pretend that he’s got a mild case of Scrofungulus that can be cured with some careful monitoring and a course of potions. He wishes he could find comfort in his plight being a routine one.

“Physically, you’re fit as a fiddle.” She presses her cold hand to his arm, frowning, and Teddy can feel magic on his skin. He has no idea what she’s doing. She nods, apparently satisfied. “This type of situation is often more difficult from a mental, well-being perspective.”

James’s face swims in Teddy’s mind. Teddy closes his eyes, but he’s not sure whether he’s trying to push James’s face away or keep it in perfect clarity. He doesn’t want to forget.

“Yeah,” Teddy says.

“What’s the plan?” Tonks asks.

“We’re going to send you home. Mr Nettles is giving you one week of rest leave, but we can demand he increase that if need be. I’m going to arrange for a Mindhealer to come to your home next Thursday to assess how you’re recovering and make a recommendation for next steps. Does that sound okay?”

When Teddy doesn’t answer, Remus says, “Sounds good. We’ll bring him back to our house.”

Teddy opens his eyes to smile at his dad. He can’t blame them for wanting to keep Teddy close, after he’d been disappeared for weeks with no trace. And in truth, he needs the company. He doesn’t want to be alone in his flat right now.

“Perfect,” the Healer says.

“Perfect,” Teddy echoes.

***

Teddy wakes, but before he opens his eyes he doesn't know where he is. He's fairly sure it's not Lily's room—the sunlight is coming from the wrong direction—or St Mungo's, because there's not that odd antiseptic magical residue in the air.

He opens his eyes—it's his bedroom in his parents' house. It's home, but it doesn't feel like home. It's comfortable and safe and fills him with a sense of love, but it hasn’t felt like _home_ in years.

He rolls out of bed and pulls an old jumper out of his drawer and over his head.

He wanders down the corridor and hears voices. When he went to bed the night before, he'd left Harry and Draco napping on the sofa while his mum and dad baked cookies (a standard stress reliever for them). He jogs down the stairs, careful to grab the railing because he's got socks on and he always falls down the stairs when he's wearing socks.

The voices stop, and Teddy wishes they would treat him like usual, rather than tiptoeing around him. His parents, Harry, Draco, Andromeda, and Narcissa are all sitting around the table drinking tea and coffee. Two teapots and a cafetiere smoke and bounce merrily in the middle of the table.

“Morning,” he says, trying to smile and act normal.

Andromeda stands and walks over to wrap him in a hug. “My boy,” she says, squeezing. He wants to say _You’re not dead,_ and as he returns her hug, he thinks wryly that she might want to say the same thing to him.

“Come,” she says. “Let’s have tea.”

Teddy takes a seat at the table and chooses the black tea, pouring it into a cup. Teddy's parents' coffee cups are a mismatched set of wand thrown pottery they have bought over the years at Diagon's annual Portentous Pottery Expo. He can’t help but compare it to the Potters’ ridiculous mugs, wondering what Narcissa and Andromeda would say about their mug that says, without explanation, MOIST.

No one says _How are you?_ but Teddy can almost see the question on their faces, in the clench of their mouths—that they’re holding it back.

“I’m okay,” he says with a small smile as he takes a sip of tea.

Tonks shares a look with Remus.

“Really!” Teddy says. “It’s—I’ll—It will be okay.”

“It’s just—” Tonks starts, then snaps her mouth shut and reaches for a muffin.

“What?”

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “You look like you did that time we couldn’t make it to the Hufflepuff Summer Slumber Party and you were heartbroken you weren’t going to see Alex.”

Teddy laughs. _Alex._ It’s been a long time since he’s thought of that particular heartbreak. And of course his mum can tell he’s heartbroken, rather than having some kind of existential angst about universes. Not that Teddy can tell her she’s right. And even if he could tell her, he’s not sure he would want to.

“Yeah. It’s just hard. I don’t know how to deal with it. I saw—” His voice stops working. The fucking vow. He tries again. “When I was there I—” No sound. “Fuck!”

“Did someone do something to you in the other universe?” Remus asks with searching, caring eyes.

But fuck! Teddy is _not_ going to play twenty questions about this. He doesn’t even want to think about how long it would take for them to guess _The other Harry has a son and you fell in love with him? Is that what’s wrong, Ted?_

__Teddy runs a hand over his face. “Dad, I just can’t make it a guessing game right now.”

“Alright,” Remus says, leaning forward, hands wrapped around a cup. “What can we do to help, then?”

Teddy doesn’t know what to say, because there’s nothing.

“When is the Mindhealer scheduled to come?” Andromeda asks.

“Thursday,” Tonks says, drumming her fingers on the table.

Draco stands, and his face has the set to it that says he's on a mission and everyone better comply with anything he says. “Right,” he says. “I’ll be back.” He turns and strides out of the room. Part of Teddy wants to call Draco back, but he learned long ago that when you've been folded into the family protection of Malfoys, there's no escaping their fierce—and at times troublesome—advocacy.

At his departure, Narcissa folds her hands in her lap, looking for all the world like she’s now certain everything will be solved. Teddy’s not sure what she thinks Draco will accomplish. The Malfoy name and coffers can’t tear James through the veil, and even if they could, it wouldn’t solve anything.

“Do you want a distraction?” Harry asks. “I could juggle muffins?”

Teddy laughs, leaning his head on his hand. But it hurts—because it’s something James would say. “Maybe in a little bit, Harry.” He takes a bite of muffin. “Do you ever just think about how everything is so contingent? Like, how different would our lives be right now if Mum and Dad had another kid after me?”

Tonks scoffs. “Fruit of my loins, you know I love you, but this womb is and always has been one and done. If this house was ever going to have another kid in it, it would be a baby goat.” She stops. “Wait! Is that what happened in the other universe?”

“No!” Teddy groans through a laugh. “I just mean, little decisions like that, or mistakes, or whatever. They can change things so much over time.”

They all nod, Narcissa says something polite, but Teddy can tell they don’t understand what he means. He sighs. “I’ll take the muffin juggling now.”

Harry jumps up, Accios the muffins, and puts on a pretty good show of juggling with two and then three muffins, but he loses it at four. One of them sails across the room and lands in the sink just as Draco walks in with a tall woman.

The table falls silent—the peals of laughter and Narcissa’s tutting cut short.

“Teddy,” Draco says, "this is Mindhealer Coffey."

The idea of talking to a Mindhealer was great when it was hypothetical, but faced with it now, Teddy’s shoulders clench.

"But—I can't—" Teddy furrows his brow. "You know I can't talk about what happened." He turns to the woman. "Sorry, only because I'm an Unspeakable."

She smiles. "Yes, so am I. Mr Malfoy here came barging onto Level Nine demanding our best classified Mindhealer, and here I am. Four days earlier than planned, but Mr Nettles probably should’ve known it was folly to wait that long."

He's surprised he doesn't know her, but then, he doesn't know many of the people who work in Life.

Draco crosses his arms and flashes a satisfied smile. "Thank you so much for coming." Teddy has the sense that Mindhealer Coffey didn't have much say in the matter.

“Oh,” Teddy says, and now that there’s someone he could talk to, he doesn’t think he wants to talk. Not to a stranger; where would he even start? He coughs. “Thanks for coming.”

She smiles and leans on the counter. “Look, I know we’ve just met. I think the best course of action here is for me to administer the TTRA to your family to establish if we can give them clearance. So you can have your support network”

Teddy’s heart rate speeds. “Really? You can do that? Do we need Nettles’s permission?”

She nods. “I mean, yes, but it’s standard procedure in the small number of cases like this where an agent experiences a traumatic event. It’s much too hard for people to cope with traumatic events if they cannot talk about them. Obviously we need to weigh that against security concerns, but…” She trails off, and Teddy can imagine what this section in the Unspeakable Code of Conduct must look like.

Teddy laughs, a tiny ray of relief bubbling through him. “So they can take it now?”

“Well,” Coffey says, her face creasing with apology, “actually, the TTRA is only approved for assessing people under the age of seventy.” She glances apprehensively at Narcissa and Andromeda. “I’m very sorry. We can get special clearance for you; it’s just that we can’t use the TTRA as an instrument.”

Remus exhales, running a hand over his hair. “Made the cut by only a few short years.”

Andromeda stands, placing her hand gently on Remus’s shoulder. “No problem. As long as the rest of you can take it now, we can get clearance later.”

Narcissa, at the table, looks like she wants to challenge Andromeda’s flexibility. The look on her face is reminiscent of Lucius. She blots the corner of her mouth with a napkin, places it daintily on the table, and stands impossibly slowly. “I’m ecstatic that my long-held beliefs about the Unspeakables are hereby confirmed—that you value poppycock like _data_ more than you value experience. Nay, _wisdom._ ”

Mindhealer Coffey opens her mouth to speak, but Narcissa cuts her off by approaching Teddy to give him a kiss and grasping Andromeda’s hand. “Teddy, we will be here for you once the Unspeakables see fit to grace us with the clearance that should be our birthright.” They stride out, leaving behind the smell of Penhaligon’s Elisabethan Rose.

Coffey sputters, “I really am sorry, it’s just that there’s no evidence of validity, and—”

“It’s fine,” Teddy says. “Really. Thank you.”

Coffey smiles and waves her wand to distribute copies of the TTRA to the rest of the family. They all gather pens and fill out the forms.

Harry eats one of last night’s cookies as he fills out the assessment. Draco sips his tea primly as he writes, and when he places the mug down he reaches out and places his hand on Harry's leg. His mum has her foot up on her chair, her knee falling open to the side as she leans forward to write. His dad has his jumper sleeves rolled up as he studies the questions, looking like he's sure he can figure out the "right" answers if he studies them enough.

Teddy feels jittery, and he realises it's nerves. If they don't pass the TTRA, Teddy won't be cleared to talk about what's happened with them. Not now, at least. And he knows the other Harry failed this assessment—failed it spectacularly. Teddy reaches for the teapot and pours himself a cup. Tea will provide a distraction, at least. He walks to stand by Mindhealer Coffey.

"Thank you for doing this."

"No problem," she says. "I'm hopeful we can just clear you to talk to them, and then bind them to secrecy, and then we can start discussing a plan to move on. You have a robust support system; it would be stupid not to take advantage of it."

Draco finishes first, setting his quill down next to the paper. Teddy grips his mug. Draco smiles, looking up with a smug grin. "Draco Malfoy has passed the screening tool with a score of 15."

His mum finishes next, and her hair turns a brilliant bubblegum pink as she reads, "Nymphadora Tonks has passed the screening tool with a score of 18!"

Remus sets his pen down, then smiles and leans over to press a kiss to his mum's cheek. "Nineteen," he reports.

All Teddy can think is _Come on, Harry, come on, Harry, come on._

__Harry runs a hand through his hair, reacting to the pressure. Harry’d be devastated if he were the only one not cleared to discuss the case with Teddy. He puts his pen down, then whoops and punches the air, reminding Teddy of James for one horrifying second. "Passed with a twenty! By the skin of my teeth, as always!"

Teddy smiles, trying to focus on his relief now and not on the image it brings up of how he felt when James passed and the other Harry failed.

"Why don't we all have a seat, then?" Coffey says, and she and Teddy join the others at the table. "I have clearance to administer the Arcanum Vow to you. While you're not Unspeakables, this will render you, like any Unspeakable, unable to discuss cases. The only difference being that this will be the only case you ever know about. You can only discuss it with each other, or with other Unspeakables. Any questions?"

Teddy expects them to ask a million questions. These people are the type to want to know _everything_ , between Harry's wariness due to his past, his mum's work experience, his dad's curiosity, and Draco's circumspection about all legal proceedings. But they each shake their head and hold up their wands in their wandhands. Teddy is filled with a wave of love and gratitude—they know they're going to do this no matter what, because they want to help him.

Mindhealer Coffey raises her wand and begins the incantation. A yellow glow surrounds the four, binding around their wands and their throats. Teddy swallows, trying to force his nerves down, knowing after this he needs to find a way to tell them. Then the light flashes bright and the spell breaks.

"So am I officially an Unspeakable now?" his mum asks, her mouth curling into a huge grin.

"The idea of that is actually terrifying," Harry says, laughing. "Let's please keep the Aurors separate from the Unspeakables."

The group laughs, but then they each slowly turn to look at Teddy, waiting for him to tell them something _._

__"Do you want me to stay?" Coffey asks.

Her face is kind; he almost wants to say yes... "No. Thank you, though, for this."

She nods, standing. "Not a problem. I think I should come tomorrow morning, so the two of us can talk? Ten o’clock?”

Teddy nods. “Sure.”

“Excellent. See you then. And thank you for the coffee." She throws powder in the Floo and disappears in a green swirl.

Teddy looks at the four expectant faces and huffs an apprehensive laugh. "I'm relieved…but also, I don’t know how to tell you what happened."

Harry laughs. "We can handle it. We've all been through a lot."

"Take your time," Remus says, giving a warm smile to Teddy and Harry both.

"I was assigned to study the multiverse," Teddy begins.

Draco affects a gasp. "I had _no_ idea!"

Teddy smiles despite himself. "Shut up. I know you realised that, but let me tell it from the beginning."

Draco mimes waving a wand at his mouth.

"Long story short, I travelled to a different universe. It felt like Apparition, but different."

"Were you hurt?" his mum asks.

"No!" he reassures. "It's just—I landed in Harry's garden. In that universe. In that universe, my parents died in the final battle."

His dad turns to his mum, their faces contorted with pain and fear, and Teddy can see it in their eyes—decades old worry. How had they managed to leave him, to go fight? They must have known it was a possibility—that they might both die. That Teddy, less than a month old, might be left home with Andromeda, orphaned. But they went anyway because they were strong and principled and didn't want Teddy to grow up in a world like _that._ It's all there, in the pain reflected between them.

Teddy doesn't know what to say next. It's hard enough for him to understand, and he saw it with his own eyes. "The thing you have to understand is—people whose lives are different are _different._ Across universes…it's not like a person from one universe has an exact replica in another. All the different choices and experiences make you different people."

Harry’s and Draco's faces are hard, worried.

"What had we become? Were we…" Draco swallows, sits up straighter, shoulders back. "Was I…Dark?"

Teddy feels his eyebrows shoot up. It wouldn't have even occurred to him to consider that. "No! No. Nothing like that. But you two—aren't a couple. You two are—different people."

Harry reaches for Draco's hand, twining their fingers together, and even from across the table Teddy can see the pressure they're exerting on each other's hands.

"So you landed in…" Harry begins, his eyes determined but hurt. "In _my_ garden. Not Draco's."

Teddy nods. "You were married to Ginny Weasley, with three kids. Draco, you—you were a widower, with a son." Teddy figures, for Harry’s sake, he should leave out the details about James.

Harry laughs, a loud honk incongruous in the serious room, and Teddy's mum throws a napkin at his head. "I'm sorry, it's just— _Ginny?!_ No. No. No way."

Teddy looks down at his cup. "No way _here._ None of this changes that. But there was a way for it _there._ Like I said, you're different people."

Harry's mouth drops open. Draco scoots his chair closer to Harry's.

"You are both good people, there, for sure!" Teddy says, eager for them to realise that there aren't awful versions of them running around somewhere.

"What about you?" Remus asks, his eyes full of the darkness that always comes with memories of the wars.

"I was—fine, I guess. He lives in Australia; I didn't see him, luckily. He's a journalist. Married to someone named Brianna."

James’s face.

His mum's eyebrows fly up. "A _journalist_?!"

"Well, of course," Harry says, in a tone of trying to lighten the mood. "He didn't have you complaining about those vultures his whole childhood, did he?"

"It was just—it was _all wrong,_ " Teddy says, his voice wobbly. "I had to pretend to be the other version of me, and it wasn't right, but the problem is that now I feel like I don't know what's real and what's not. That world is real, too. But if that world is real, then this world isn't—isn't—the whole story."

Draco leans onto his elbows. "Were we all sad, there? Is that why you're thrown off?"

Teddy lets out a sigh. "No. No. We were all happy. But—I think that's why. Because it wasn't like here, and we were happy, and life went on. And it didn't feel like life should go on, like that. I don't know. It's stupid."

After a moment, his mum hops up from her seat and walks around the table behind his chair, leans over, and wraps her arms around his chest. "People are resilient," she says, her voice hard with determination and fierce love. “We can work our way through anything life throws at us. It's—" She pauses. "There were times, in the war, that things felt like, like we couldn't get through it. And it's true that certain events change us forever, but they don't stop time. We go on." She squeezes, pushing her cheek against his.

"When Lily and James died," Remus confides. "When Sirius died. I didn't know how to have a world without them in it." He smiles sadly at Teddy. "But look at the world I have now. Sometimes—" He stops, shaking his head. "I sound as barmy as Dumbledore." Harry and Draco chuckle. "We don't know what our future worlds look like. If you're feeling like you don't understand what's real, well, probably that's just your brain adjusting. Figuring it out, recalibrating."

Teddy can feel his mum smile against his cheek. She reaches an arm out and gestures at Remus. "Get in here, Wolfie."

Teddy watches as his dad smiles, shaking his head, and stands to join them, wrapping them both in a hug. Teddy can feel his dad's head pressing between his head and his mum's, and he's filled with so much love he can almost forget the bone-deep sadness that's been eating him these past few days.

Through the hug, Teddy sees Draco turn a supercilious look on Harry. "I hope you don't think you're free of me because, in another universe, we were satisfied with _wives._ "

Harry snorts, and leans forward to kiss Draco hard on the lips. "Not in this universe."

"You two are being remarkably calm about this," Teddy observes with a small smile. "I thought you might freak out."

"Oh don't worry," Harry says, "I'm already tabulating a list of things over which to freak out to Draco when we get home. I know you don't need to deal with it right now, Teds. I'll do my freaking somewhere else, like a grown-up."

"Likewise," Draco drawls. "Ginny fucking Weasley. I _knew_ it."

Harry rolls his eyes. "I haven't so much as _looked_ at Ginny since sixth year. And she's married to that beefy keeper from the Magpies."

"So you have your eye on him, then?" Draco asks, trying to look serious, but he cracks up when Harry starts laughing.

"I just cannot fucking comprehend what would have had to happen to make Ginny and I get back together after the war," Harry says, his nose crinkling.

Teddy doesn't want to tell him it's because he went to stay with the Weasleys after the war, instead of Teddy's parents.

"It's probably not worth thinking about that way, Harry," Teddy's mum says, her voice more serious than Teddy is used to hearing it. "Different universe. Different you. There's no way that the you in this universe could've ended up with her. You know?"

"Yeah," Harry says. "Fuck." A look of alarm crosses his face. "My kids aren't arseholes, are they?"

Teddy knows that, if it didn’t bring up unwanted thoughts about James, he would laugh at Harry’s worry, at the look on Harry’s face. If it was just Albus and Lily that Harry were talking about, Teddy would laugh and reassure him that the kids are alright. But even the thought of James makes his chest clench. James's disappointed face as he pushed Teddy away, James's laugh, James's fucking dimple.

"Er, no. They're all great."

"Well then Draco's kid is an arsehole," Harry says. "Has to be. Like, definitively."

Teddy does laugh this time. "No. As a point of fact, Draco's son is the most un-arseholish person I've ever met."

Draco grins and cries, "Take that, you smug fucking bell-end!"

"You're not going to like, worry about the fact that you have kids there—out there?" Teddy asks. He's been a little worried that Harry's protective streak might extend to kids he's never met in another universe.

But Harry shrugs. "I don't know how to…how to think of that like it's real? I don't have kids; it doesn't feel real."

Teddy nods. It makes sense. Like if he were to find out that Remus wasn't his father, it wouldn't change the fact that Remus _is_ his father. Family is about a lot more than blood, even in the same universe. The other Harry is dad to his kids because he parented them from birth, not because he conceived them. And _this_ Harry didn't even conceive them. It's all so—wonky.

"Healer Coffey told me that the human brain isn't equipped to deal with this," he says.

Harry looks at his fingers, entwined with Draco’s, and smiles. "Humans deal with a lot we're not equipped to. Pass the cookies?"

***

The next morning, Remus and Tonks make themselves scarce to give Teddy privacy with Mindhealer Coffey. Teddy spends the morning sitting on the sofa, not knowing what to do with himself. He wants to watch Doctor Who, but he’s not sure it’s the most intelligent coping mechanism, given the circumstances. He ends up pulling down a book that might help with the theory behind magical recovery of the lost episodes, but his mind keeps wandering back to James, drunk on Firewhiskey, cheering Teddy up with Uno.

At two minutes after ten, the Floo roars. Teddy meets Mindhealer Coffey and leads her to the sitting room. He feels awkward, unsure what to do with himself.

"I've been briefed on your case," she says, sitting in Remus’s tweed armchair. She leans back with a sigh, her body expanding and melting into the seat as if she hasn't sat in days. "You were accidentally sent to a parallel universe?"

“Can I offer you coffee or tea?” Teddy asks.

"Oh, Hecate, yes,” she says with a wide smile, and when she meets Teddy’s eyes she adds, “I have three kids under the age of six.”

Teddy smiles, feeling a little guilty that he’s adding to her workload. He grabs the tray Remus made earlier and sets it on the coffee table, handing her a mug. "I unintentionally transported myself to a parallel universe. Physical and universal displacement, not time displacement. I left my home and landed in the closest thing I had to a home there."

Her nose crinkles. "What do you mean, the closest thing to a home?"

"In that universe, Teddy Lupin lives in Australia. I landed in the closest place to a home I had in _England_ , which was Harry Potter's house."

She nods. "Well, that makes sense. You're close with him here, too. What was different about the universe you were in?"

Teddy exhales a sigh. "Harry there is married to Ginny Weasley. They have three children. Their middle son is in a relationship with the son of Draco Malfoy."

Her mouth drops. "Oh, fuck."

"I know," Teddy says, and laughs.

"So did you get out of the Potters' house?"

"No, Nettles—the other Nettles—had me stay there, since I'd shown up and the Potters would expect me to stay with them for a visit. I spent the entire time there, when I wasn't at the Ministry for meetings on Level Nine."

"And were all three of their children living at home?"

"No," Teddy says, looking down at the sofa. "Albus lived in Edinburgh with Scorpius Malfoy; I saw him a few times. Lily was still at Hogwarts. But James, the oldest, was there."

"So you spent your time with Harry, Ginny, and James."

Teddy nods.

"Did they suspect you weren't…you?"

"No?" he says, running his thumb along the seam of his jeans. "I don't think so."

"So it was a success," she says. "From the perspective of the department."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Is there something that happened that made it hard for _you_ , if not for the department?" She's leaning on her hand, her keen eyes fixed on him despite her aura of exhaustion, and Teddy finds he likes her quite a lot.

"I—" Teddy doesn't quite know how to answer. "It just felt wrong, all the time. Sometimes I would have this overwhelming feeling of everything being wrong."

She listens but doesn't say anything.

"And there was James."

"What about James?"

His immediate thought is to make light, to say _Well, my cock liked his distaste for shirts_ , but it’s so far from the truth that he can’t demean it by making it seem like it’s about that. It’s not that. He’d been telling himself it was, at one point, and maybe that’s what it was at first, but finding James fit is so far from the primary attraction that Teddy feels. Teddy loves James’s attitude and his energy and his enthusiasm. He tries to figure out how to describe it, why he feels that way, why the thought of James out there, across the multiverse, being angry at him hurts so fucking much.

"I—" Teddy blows out a gust of air, knowing the truth as he whispers, "I fell in love with him."

Had he realised that before now? He sighs; he doesn’t even know. He’s been in denial, trying to balance the demands of the multiverse with his emotional wellbeing.

She stares at him for a moment, then lets out a low whistle. "That’s a bugger."

Teddy laughs, because that's all there is to say about it, isn't it?

"How are you feeling now? That you're back? Has the feeling of wrongness gone away?"

Teddy thinks of sitting around the table, eating muffins, and smiles. "Somewhat. I missed my parents. Oh, I didn't say that part—my parents were dead in the other universe."

Mindhealer Coffey scrunches her nose in commiseration. "And how do you feel you handled that? That's an enormous challenge, Teddy. I don't want you thinking you were weak for having trouble dealing with this. This is quite literally an ordeal that the human brain is not equipped to cope with."

"I mean," Teddy sighs, "I assumed they were still okay, in this world. And they were. So I didn't worry about them, really. I just had to deal with how upside down it all felt."

"And now that you're back?" Her face is understanding, but insistent.

"It still feels wrong," Teddy says, then groans. "Is everything going to feel wrong now, forever? I can't deal with that!"

"One. You _can_ deal with it. You'll have support. Two. No, it probably won't feel like that forever. Right now the displacement is fresh in your mind. You need time. And I know this may not be welcome advice, but you need to grieve."

"Grieve?" Teddy asks. "For whom?"

"For James."

Teddy's heart thumps alarmingly. His throat constricts. He can't breathe.

"Teddy." Mindhealer Coffey stands and places a hand on Teddy's arm. "I'm going to cast a calming charm to stop the panic." She waves her wand and Teddy feels the odd bubbling sensation he knows is the stress hormones evaporating from his body. He can breathe.

"James isn't dead," he says after a long stretch of silence.

"No," she says. "But he doesn't exist."

"But he does," Teddy says. "Just like my parents existed when I was there, I knew they were still alive, same thing."

"It's not the same thing," she says. "And you won't be able to properly grieve until you grasp that." She crosses her arms. "I'm going to leave a report with Nettles, but you need time to work through your feelings about all of this.”

Teddy feels numb. He's not sure if it's the effect of the charm or her insistence that he grieve for James. "Er, okay. You'll owl?"

"Sure,” she says, standing and putting her empty mug on the tray. “And Teddy. Congratulations on a successful mission." She turns and walks out of the room, pulling a phone out of her pocket as she heads towards the Floo.

All Teddy can think is _James isn't dead. James isn't dead. James isn't dead._ Teddy is home, but James isn't dead.

***

Healer Coffey was right—Teddy is relieved to be able to talk to his family. He feels better, like some of the weight has been taken off his shoulders by the people who've been lightening his burden since he was born. Harry shows up with fancy new notebooks and informs him they're going to _journal_ , Draco brings a mind tonic that is thought to increase neuroplasticity, his mum sits with him on the sofa watching old shows, and his dad picks up a book called _Trauma and Time._

 __The problem, though, is that Teddy isn't discombobulated because of universe incongruities. Well, he is, a bit. But he's also off balance because he fell in love, left James in the lurch, and feels an enormous sense of guilt about the entire thing. James's face still shows up all the time, no matter how many times Teddy pushes it away.

And while Teddy knows that his family wants to take away his burden, he also knows it's not fair to tell _this_ Harry that he fell in love in with _that_ Harry's son, and likely left him hurt, too. It's hard enough for Harry to reconcile the rest of the information—that his counterpart is with Ginny, has kids. It's too much to expect him to comfort Teddy for having fallen in love with his _son._

__But Teddy is not okay. He wants to know how James reacted to the letter. He wants to know what James did after he read it. He wants to know what Nettles did when he viewed Teddy's Pensieve memories and realised that Teddy not only fell in love with James, but also told James classified information. He wants to know James is okay. He doesn't care if James hates him; he just wants to know James isn't hurt.

And really, that's just the tip of the iceberg of things he wants to know. Now that he's home and sitting around without work and away from the acute stress he was under when he was in the other universe, he can't stop thinking a million questions: what was James's relationship with the other Teddy like? They can't have been an item, could they have? Does James resent the other Teddy for having fucked off to Australia? Does James resent him for leaving, too? Does James think that's all Teddy does—leave?

Because Teddy didn't want to leave him! He glances at the telly, which is playing his mum's favourite, Holby City, only to find he’s lost track of what's happening on the show. But Teddy didn't want to leave James! It kills him to think James might not understand that. Because Teddy has spent his entire adult life not wanting anyone, really. Here and there he'll want someone enough for a one-off or a date or two, but he has never wanted them for longer, for more. Even with Colm, whom he'd been with for awhile, he felt no urge to stay. He'd just sort of stayed as a matter of course.

But James makes him want to actively _stay,_ to keep it going, to put the work in and do the things that people do to make relationships last, to make him happy, to be a support for him, to laugh together, to _stay._

__Yet he'd left, just like the other Teddy had.

Someone on the screen has a heart attack and his mum cackles. "Oh Merlin, did you see that?"

Coffey says he has to grieve. He doesn't want to hear that he has to grieve.

"Dor!" Remus calls from the kitchen. "You've got a Ministry owl."

"Those fuckers," she mumbles, then shouts, "I told them I was taking family leave!"

"You can yell at the owl, if it will make you feel better," Remus calls back.

She sighs and manages to slam her leg into the coffee table on her way to the kitchen. Teddy stares at the telly without seeing, and a moment later his mum jogs into the room, kisses him on the top of the head, and says, "Gotta go, Grindylow. Huge breakthrough in a case. I'm sorry. I'll be back later."

Teddy leans back to look at her and smiles. "In the morn, Graphorn."

She frowns. "I better be back before the morn." And then she's clattering off through the Floo.

After two more untimely deaths on the screen and countless turnings over of the James issue, Remus comes and sits next to him on the sofa. "Are you watching this?"

Teddy turns to him. "No."

Remus waves his wand to turn off the melodrama.

"You feeling okay?" Teddy asks. Even having been in another universe, he hasn't lost track of the lunar cycle—it's day 24.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Remus says, though Teddy knows he's lying because his forehead is crinkled in the way that means he's got pain in his spine. "How are you feeling, though?"

Teddy doesn't know how to answer without lying. He never lies to his dad.

"What haven't you told us?" Remus asks, his eyes understanding. "Should we make a pot of tea, or will it require something stronger?"

Teddy smiles and leans his head back, looking up at the ceiling. "It's something I feel like I can't tell Harry. Like it would be too much to put on him."

"Well, Harry's not here."

Teddy turns, but doesn't lift his head. His dad's watching him carefully. "I fell in love with Harry's son."

Remus's eyebrows rise; a sad smile tugs at his lips. "With—how?!"

"I don't know, Dad, it was insane. I had to stay in their house and James was always there and he's just so… _magnetic_ and he's lived this life where he is famous because of who his father is and he just _got_ me and he is so full of energy and life and fun, and oh Merlin, I sound like a besotted schoolkid." Teddy chances a look at his dad. Remus is shaken. "What?" Teddy asks.

"His name is James?"

Oh, wonderful. In all his worry about how this would affect Harry, Teddy's failed to remember that James is also the grandson of one of his dad's murdered best friends. "Yeah. James Sirius."

Remus huffs a pained laugh. "Oh, we're just a sad bunch, aren't we?" he says, scooting closer and reaching his arm around Teddy. "You didn't stand a chance, did you?"

"I don't think so," Teddy says, remembering the first time he'd met James and the way James had hugged him.

"So you and he—" Remus trails off, waving his hand.

"No," Teddy says. "Well."

"Well?"

"The night before I came back home, we got drunk, and I tried to kiss him."

"Oh, son."

"He pushed me away."

"Oh, son."

"I mean, he pushed me away because he thought I was the other Teddy. Who is like his brother. And married. And so of course he pushed me away, but I keep seeing his face, and he was so disgusted that I would try something with him."

"So," Remus begins, and Teddy can see he's doing that dad thing he does where he tries to summarise the situation without adding his opinion, "what you're telling me is you feel like you didn't get a chance, because he rejected you but he didn't reject _you_."

"…Yeah. Exactly. And now he's gone."

"You've got a bit of a conundrum on your hands there, Ted," his dad sighs, and Teddy leans his head on his shoulder.

"The other thing we can't tell Harry and Draco," Teddy says, relief coursing through him at sharing the information, "is that Harry's son Albus and Draco's son Scorpius are together. Completely spoony."

There's a pause. "And Harry and Draco are…not together?"

"Right."

Remus starts to laugh, the sound building until Teddy catches it. They laugh for a minute, until Remus stops and wipes his eyes. "Oh, Teddy. I'm so sorry. So in addition to all the other stuff, you have a broken heart?"

Is that what it is? He thinks about the ache in his chest. ‘Heartbreak’ doesn't seem to capture it. "I guess? I dunno. It's—I miss him. I want to know how he is. Mindhealer Coffey says I need to grieve for him, but how do you grieve for someone who is alive? He's so alive, Dad."

Remus cranes his neck to look at him. "Oh, son. It's a horrible idea."

"Huh?" Teddy asks. "What is?"

"You want to go back for him."

Remus doesn't phrase it like a question, and as soon as Teddy hears it, he realises his dad is right. James passed the TTRA. James could come here, just like Teddy could go there. James is alive and vibrant and energetic and smart and he could _come back._ Or Teddy could go back and talk to him there, they could come up with something, they could—

"I can't? Can I?"

"I don't know," his dad says.

Teddy doesn't know, either. He supposes that's up to Nettles, of all people.

"Don't you think it's a bad idea?" his dad asks. "Better to heal from the heartbreak and find someone who, er, exists in this universe?"

"You’re right. It's a terrible idea," Teddy mumbles.

"You can't—" Remus stops, choosing his words with care. "You can't think of it like soulmates. You can't think of it like you've found your soulmate and you have to go after him even though he lives elsewhere."

"I'm not thinking of it like that," Teddy says.

"Because that's not how love works," Remus continues. "I thought it was—you know, with Sirius."

Teddy stops. He hadn't expected his dad to say that. Remus doesn't like to talk about Sirius, no matter how much time has passed, though of course Teddy knows they'd been together. Teddy makes a noise of assent, hoping not to interrupt his dad's willingness to discuss it.

Remus sighs. "When Sirius died, I thought that was the end of love for me. I thought—I thought, I've loved once and loved hard, and that's more than some people get in a lifetime. But then I was working with your mum, and she was so young and bright and full of life and she wanted me. It made no sense. But she was nothing like Sirius, and I didn't know what to do with that. But she wouldn't take no for an answer."

Teddy raises his eyebrows.

Remus laughs. "Not in a rapey way, in a way like, she knew we'd be good together and that if I could get over my issues we could be happy. And I just—eventually I realised I was wrong, about the soulmate thing. That's not how life works. You fall in love. Sometimes you fall in love again."

"But Dad," Teddy says, his chest tight, "if you could've gone through the veil for Sirius. You would've."

Remus presses his lips together and nods. "Truthfully…if it wasn't for Harry, I think I would've." He tightens his arm around Teddy's shoulders.

"It's just—it feels possible," Teddy says. "I know James is out there, and I know sort of how to get there, and how do I grieve for someone who isn't dead?"

"You can't, I suppose."

"It's not that I think he's my soulmate and I need to do anything to get him. It's like, he's the one I've fallen for, and I don't know how to move past it without…without trying. Without trying with him when he knows the truth."

"But can you ever tell him the truth?" Remus challenges. "He has another Teddy in his universe, you can't just—"

"I already did."

"What? How?"

"I—fuck." Teddy stops and laughs. "I wrote him a letter before I came back, explaining it all. He probably thinks I've lost my damn mind. And I'm probably going to get in trouble at work, when they find out. Which they will, because they have copies of my Pensieve memories."

"How?" his dad wonders. "Weren't you under the vow?"

"Seems like the vow doesn't apply in other universes. I'm sure that'll be my next job at work, figuring out how to come up with a vow that applies cross-universally."

Remus's face takes on a look of intellectual curiosity and Teddy smiles and says, "For once I can talk about this stuff with you."

"It's nice!" Remus says. "Let's make that pot of tea, shall we? We're going to have to tell Mum. And you'll have to talk to Nettles."

Teddy smiles. Problem-solving mode. "What do you think about telling Harry?"

Remus frowns, leaning his hands on his knees and pushing himself up off the sofa. "I don't know. I do know everyone always underestimates what Harry can handle."

"So we tell him," Teddy says, standing.

"If you're serious about trying to go back," Remus says, "and I can see you are…yes."

Teddy sighs, feeling suddenly awful and hopefully buoyant at the same time. "Yeah. Okay. But let's keep the thing about Albus and Scorpius to ourselves, eh?"

Remus laughs, a deep belly laugh. "Too right. Draco really named his son Scorpius?"

***

"We present Nettles with research," Draco says, tapping a stack of parchments. "He can't argue with facts."

"Yes he can," Tonks scoffs. "You don't know him like I do. The man is smart but he's not 100% logical. He can be persuaded. I say we walk in there, me in my Auror robes, Harry wearing a little sign that says like, 'The Chosen One', Draco wearing a vast collection of Malfoy jewels, Remus wearing his Hogwarts regalia, and we say, 'Listen up, Nettles, this is what's happening.'"

"Mum, I think that's a really bad idea." Teddy can't help but smile.

Remus shakes his head. "We make a list of all of the current problems: that Teddy revealed information to James, that James deserves to have closure, and might do something rash if he doesn't get it," he says. "Make a vague suggestion that it could cause problems in the multiverse if James reveals it to his family, who we know did not pass the TTRA. We present this information to Nettles, and we let him think he's come up with the solution."

"Not bad," Draco decides.

"You're all overthinking it," Harry says for what seems like the tenth time. "You just go in there and keep talking until he listens."

None of their suggestions seem right, though the act of hashing it out at least feels like progress. Teddy's getting antsy, though, and he doesn't know if he has enough Ravenclaw in him to wait until he's got this sorted in his mind.

"I think I need to just go and do it and stop planning," Teddy says.

"Exactly," Harry says, nodding his head firmly in agreement.

"But I'll bring the research”—he counts off on his fingers—"I'll name drop, and I'll use Dad's subtle inception techniques."

Everyone grins at him. 

"I don't think you should go alone," Draco says, and if someone else had said that Teddy might have bristled, thinking they meant he couldn't handle himself, but since it’s Draco, Teddy knows he’s thinking strategically. Draco tilts his head, considering. "Bring Harry. You might need his support to convince Nettles, since it concerns the other Harry's son. Plus, Harry always gets what he wants."

"Except for dinner on Thursdays," Harry points out, and Draco rolls his eyes, smiling.

"Alright," Teddy says, gathering up Draco's research. "There's no time like the present."

An hour later they find themselves on Level Nine, getting scolded by Imelda ("You're supposed to be on leave!") and on the receiving end of curious looks from all the Unspeakables who pass by.

She eventually waves them past when Teddy tells her that the multiverse might implode. Which is a stretch, but possibly maybe not exactly a lie.

As they walk down the corridor, Harry turns to Teddy and asks, "Do you think maybe we've made a strategic error, sending a protective Gryffindor and a brokenhearted Hufflepuff to do this task?"

Teddy laughs. "Who knows. Maybe that's just right."

They knock, and Nettles booms, "Enter!"

Harry pats Teddy on the back and they walk inside.

"Unspeakable Lupin," Nettles says, "Mr Potter." He looks even more agitated than usual, and Teddy winces, then takes a deep breath. He needs to keep it together.

"Hello, sir," Teddy says. "May we sit?"

"Certainly," Nettles says, looking at Harry, and Teddy has the distinct feeling that Nettles would be yelling at him if Harry weren't here. "I was under the impression that I'd told you to stay home and rest." The man attempts a smile, but it comes off like a threatening grimace.

"Sir, I—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Nettles says. "Let me guess." He places each of his hands flat on the desk and leans forward, pressing himself up so far that Teddy thinks he must have pushed his bottom off his chair. "In the universe you were in, Harry Potter has a son named James, and you're in love with him."

Teddy chokes on his tongue. "Wha—how?!"

"Let me tell you a little story," Nettles says. "Are you ready for story time? Shall I fetch you a juice box?"

Teddy doesn't answer. He learned long ago that it's best to just roll with it when Nettles is worked up. He glances at Harry, who seems bewildered.

"So I'm sitting in my office this morning," he says, sitting back in his seat and clasping his hands on his stomach, "getting through some paperwork. When suddenly there's a flash of light and a bizarre ripping noise and this letter appears in mid-air." He holds up a parchment. "Almost like the letter Apparated. It's the type of sealed, classified letter we use to communicate with contemp Unspeakables in cases of time-travel."

Teddy's stomach clenches. It couldn't be…

"So I open it up, and would you know it's a letter to me, _from me._ When I became an Unspeakable I knew I'd be dealing with some major shit, Lupin, but this! I've written myself a letter informing me of the goings on in the Department of Mysteries in the universe you left, since you've left it."

Oh, wonderful. It’s time for Teddy to get yelled at for what the other Nettles saw in the Pensieve memories.

"I broke the letter into three sections, because I am very good at clarity and organisation, no matter the universe. The first section concerns what my counterpart saw in the Pensieve memories they extracted from you before you left. The second section concerns the research advancements their multiverse team has made concerning sending magic between universes, how they figured out how to send the letter, and what they've learned about the stability of inter-universal travel. The third section concerns the actions of a certain James Potter, who burst into that universe's Level Nine the morning after you disappeared."

_James._

__"I'm not sure if you just heard that," Nettles splutters. "He managed to _get into Level Nine._ "

Teddy starts to laugh nervously. He has no idea how James got into the Department of Mysteries. He only knows he would never stand between James and something James thought he needed to do.

"As you can see," Nettles says, "I'm not quite sure where to start. Perhaps I should start with the part where you find yourself on an impromptu mission and you decide to have a bit of how’s your father with someone from another universe. Perhaps I should start with the part where you broke department protocol and disclosed classified information to an unauthorised party. Perhaps I should start with the fact that it's grounds for dismissal."

Harry coughs. "Excuse me, Mr Nettles, if I may."

Nettles fixes Harry with a challenging look, as if daring him to defend Teddy in the face of his blatant insubordination.

"According to section 512b of the Unspeakables' Code," Harry says, "an Unspeakable cannot be held liable for lapses in judgment on missions for which they were not properly briefed and/or trained, and Teddy was neither briefed nor trained for the mission he found himself thrust into."

A red flush blooms on Nettles's face.

"As such," Harry continues, "according to section 315c, Teddy cannot receive demerits or termination as a result of the mission."

Nettles's spittley lips smack as he shuts his mouth. "Indeed." He turns to rummage in a filing cabinet.

Teddy turns to Harry and gives him a questioning look. Harry grins and whispers, "Draco and I read your copy of the Unspeakables' Code last night."

Nettles turns around and slams a large file onto his desk. "So in this universe I've got you bothering me, and in that universe I've got James Potter bothering me. On the bright side, this is a collaboration between me and me, and I've never been assigned a better partner."

Harry presses his lips together in what looks like an attempt to quash a smile.

"Here's the problem," Nettles says. "One. We have a Speakable with knowledge of a project. Two. We have you here wanting to get in contact with him there, and vice versa. Three. We are making breakthroughs in inter-universal magic but do not have a clear idea of the implications. Four. We only have the vaguest sense of how to select a target universe for inter-universal magic and we cannot risk sending correspondence, or Merlin protect us, Unspeakables, to a whole ‘nother universe. Five. We cannot let you, or heaven forbid, James Potter, attempt inter-universal magic outside of a controlled laboratory environment. Six. My counterpart has determined that we cannot Obliviate James Potter because he's declared his rights and threatened to inform his father, who is Head Auror, and the two departments can't handle the politics of a scuffle so soon after the Abernathy scandal."

Harry laughs. "Wait, me? Head Auror?" He turns to Teddy.

Teddy shrugs with a smile.

"That's ridiculous, okay, go on," Harry says.

"So here's where we stand, from where I sit," Nettles continues, ignoring them entirely. "Sadly, the obvious course of action is for us to allow you to remain on the multiverse case and to conduct experiments that allow you to make contact with James Potter. That way our research will continue while you and James figure out whatever is going on so you can stop threatening the functioning of the multiverse with idiotic amateurism. We need for you and James to resolve whatever is bothering you so that each universe can remain stable."

Teddy breaks into a huge smile, hope taking root in his chest for the first time and making him feel like there might be a way out of this nightmare situation.

"BUT!" Nettles booms, and Teddy's heart sinks just as quickly as it had risen. He waves his wand and a bulleted list appears in the air. "Things we need to accomplish before we can even consider making contact. We need written procedures for interaction between people from different universes. We need to administer the vow to James both there and here so it applies to both universes. We need to administer the vow to you there. We need to develop a vow that works across universes. We need to compile a list of research questions that can be furthered with experimentation between universes if you travel back. We need to determine the best way to stably travel between universes, to select a destination universe that doesn't rely solely on subjective intentionality—"

Teddy's head is swimming, and he can barely pay attention to Nettles, but this. They can do this. Lists of things that need to be done. Interesting questions he can research.

"Alright?" Nettles asks. "Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Teddy says and can't help smiling. "Thank you."

Nettles scoffs. "Don't thank me; I'm not doing it out of the goodness of my heart."

Teddy nods and he and Harry stand.

"Oh, Lupin, one more thing. James Potter put a message for you in the letter they sent me."

Teddy's heart beats rapidly.

"It says: 'You are an arsehole.' That's it." Nettles smiles sweetly.

Teddy groans and walks out of the office. "I suppose I deserved that," Teddy says. "James calling me an arsehole, I mean."

Harry holds his hands up. "I don't know, Ted."

"Is it stupid of me to go to all of this trouble when James is that angry at me?"

"Well," Harry says, "I don't think you have a choice, since Nettles thinks you need to settle this with him and that's your assignment now, and also—why would he go barging into the Department of Mysteries if he didn't care? He could've just assumed you were lying and ignored it, but he didn't."

"I don't like when people don't like me," Teddy says, feeling like an idiot.

"I don't think he doesn't like you," Harry says, patting Teddy on the back. "I think he's just mad, and probably frustrated and confused. But you can be angry with someone and still like them. Look at me and Draco. I still love him, even when he buys season tickets to the Harpies without asking me if I even want to go, which I do, but he should've asked."

Teddy smiles, but it's more for Harry than for him.

***

Teddy thinks of James while he reads a book about the evolution of departmental time-travel procedures.

Teddy sees James's disappointed face when he has a meeting with Maria, from Time, to draft preliminary inter-universal travel procedures.

Teddy hears James's voice saying "You are an arsehole" while he tries to follow Tajik and Haradas's conversation about the theory of setting universal destinations.

Teddy tastes James's muffins at his parents' kitchen table spread with books and packaged biscuits as his dad and Draco help him look up hypothetically dangerous incongruities that could emerge from inter-universal travel.

Teddy feels James's hand that time he reached over and grabbed it on the mat at the rock climbing place while he writes a letter to James that simply reads, "I know. Forgive me?" and begs Nettles to send it to the other Nettles.

Teddy, despite himself, imagines James in this universe, in his flat, in his bed, while he listens to his mum talk about the difficulty Teddy will face when he goes back to the other universe to talk to James.

***

Somehow it's almost Christmas. Time has lost all meaning. He hasn't had any response from James, and he can't help but worry—does that mean James has lost interest? He's moved on? He's past his anger for Teddy, and that's all that was there, no other feelings underneath?

Nettles and the team have perfected inter-universal communication, and Nettles is corresponding with the other Nettles. He's been telling anyone who will listen that "I've always enjoyed talking to myself, haven't I?" and following up the statement with a little chuckle. Teddy's glad that Nettles is enjoying this, at least.

The problem, in Teddy's opinion, is that now both Nettleses think they're in charge, and they've started trying to go over each other's heads, which is, admittedly, easy to do when you have a buffer as wide as the gap between universes. Teddy worries about the integrity of the entire multiverse project if the Nettleses can't follow the new inter-universal travel procedures.

(He'd had a long discussion with Draco the night before about whether the advent of inter-universal travel would usher in an age that required supra-universal government, but thankfully that question is one for another day. And if the Unspeakables are good at anything, it's keeping things from becoming public knowledge, so hopefully they can delay that question for a good long time.)

All this weighing on him, Teddy drags himself into the Ministry. They've accomplished a lot, but there's still a lot to be done, and Teddy's half convinced the two Nettleses will never agree on any plan of action. Still, he walks out of the lift with coffee made by his dad—who makes the best coffee—and into the office, ready for another day of theories that Teddy worries are too difficult for any of them to really wrap their brains around.

When he passes Imelda, she waves and says, "Mr Nettles would like to see you."

He trudges past, yawning and sipping his coffee and thinking of what Mindhealer Coffey said the other day about how he's hiding behind busyness and exhaustion—ignoring the need to process what's happened to him in favour of work. He yawns again and thinks maybe she's right.

He knocks on the open door.

"Ah, Unspeakable Lupin, come in."

Teddy sits in the chair. "We've made progress on the simulations to test the proposed procedures," he says.

"Good. I was working on the problem of destination universe. Maria thinks it's a combination of agent intentionality and supra-universal correction mechanism."

Teddy rubs his forehead. "Correction mechanism? How?"

"It will take some experiments to test it, but when you said the incantation, you didn't even know that other universe existed—you couldn't intend to go there, of all possible universes. But it was a universe where you could land without raising suspicion, because the other Teddy was in Australia. It was a universe where you could easily fit in without causing a dangerous incongruity that would change the course of the multiuniversal future."

Teddy pinches his nose. "But that implies that there's a way for magic to access knowledge of all existing futures."

"Correct!" Nettles enthuses. "Which is why Felix Felicis works, remember?"

"So that same magic that Felix taps into has some way of subtly altering inter-universal actions to help them prevent incongruities?"

"We think," Nettles says, "but in any case we were wondering if it had to do with Hancock being in that universe. Which could be some sort of retroactive causality…How Hancock ended up _there_ , of all possible universes…"

"I was wondering about that," Teddy mumbles.

There's a scream from down the corridor, and Nettles jumps up, wand raised. "What the bloody fuck was that?" he yells, his jowls bouncing with a belligerent eagerness.

A Sonorused voice echoes, "Head Unspeakable Nettles to the veil manipulation chamber."

"What did they do," he hisses. "What did those morons do now?" He runs out of the room, Teddy at his heels.

Teddy is about five stone lighter and thirty years younger than Nettles, and he runs, careening around a corner, slipping, and slamming into the black tiled wall. He closes his eyes in pain, and when he opens them, James is in the corridor. James. With his hands on his hips.

“James,” Teddy says, rubbing his head. "Am I hallucinating?"

James radiates steely determination. "No," James says, crossing his hands over his chest.

The sight of him makes Teddy's stomach ache _._ He's here, he's real, he's wearing a t-shirt that says "GRYFFINDORS DO IT BETTER."

Teddy lets out a breath and is horrified when it comes out a bit like a sob. He covers his mouth with his hand. "I missed you." It's not enough, but it's true.

"How could you lie to me like that?" James says, and he is _angry._ His hair seems to sizzle with magic, and Teddy hasn't considered it before, but James is intimidating.

"What are you doing here?" Teddy asks.

"You! Potter!" Nettles gasps, running around the corner and resting his hands on his knees. "Is _he_ here?"

"Er, is who here?" James asks.

"Me!" Nettles says. “Nettles!”

Teddy looks between Nettles and James, and it feels like an out-of-body experience.

"No, sir," James says, slowly. "As the procedures you came up with clearly state that counterparts cannot meet each other in the same universe."

"Ah, yes," Nettles says, still gasping. "Got a little carried away there."

"Why are you here?" Teddy repeats, ignoring Nettles.

"You don't get to interrogate me," James says. "I get to interrogate you. How could you lie to me like that?!"

"I'm sorry!" Teddy blurts. "What would you have had me do? I didn't know anyone there! I'd never met you! This is my job!"

"You let me go on thinking you were someone else!" James yells. "Do you think I would've told you all those things I told you if you were a stranger?!"

"About what?" Teddy shouts back, getting worked up from adrenaline and James's fizzy energy. "Nothing you told me made me think poorly of you! I'm the only one who made a fool of myself!"

"You—" James stops, runs a hand over his face. "You didn't make a fool of yourself."

"I did!" Teddy cries. "I threw myself at you!"

There's a cough, and Teddy realises that Nettles is still there, along with the veil manipulation tech and about five other Unspeakables who came running to see what the commotion is.

"Can we—" Teddy points vaguely behind him.

"Yeah," James says, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets.

“Oh no!” Nettles says, shooting an arm out to block the corridor. “We need to check Mr Potter’s vitals and get a full report on what was going on on Level Nine in his universe, why they sent him here. I can think of about a thousand more things we need to do before you can go have your little rendezvous.”

“Sir,” Teddy pleads. “Five minutes. We’ll come right to your office. We’ll be right in a conference room.”

Nettles sighs and looks at the ceiling. “Fine. Five minutes!” They head for an empty conference room. “Do not even think about leaving the department!" Nettles booms after them, and the door closes behind them.

Teddy shoots a Silencing Charm at the door and perches on the edge of the table. There are at least ten perfectly serviceable chairs, but he feels like he can't sit down while having this argument.

"Okay, look," James says.

He's angry but he's so good-looking and so _James_ and so alive and in existence, and Teddy doesn't know how to feel.

"Okay, imagine this. My godbrother shows up and I haven't seen him in ages. I trust him with my life but I'm a little worried that he's not reliable—like, I shouldn't rely on him—because he moved to Australia a few years back and was totally okay with leaving his life behind to go have a new one. But then he's here and he's hanging out with me and we're having fun."

Teddy swallows.

"And I'm like, okay whatever, this is great, let's just have fun. Let's go running. Let's go rock climbing. Whatever. But Teddy is opening up to me, which is a little weird because usually he relies on other people for that—which is FINE! obviously—but I'm not going to pretend I didn't like feeling like he was opening up to me, treating me like I'm not six years younger than him or whatever. And so what if he seems different, because I don't see him that often anymore, so who am I to even say what _different_ is?"

Teddy has the overwhelming urge to touch him. To grab his arm and pull him in and wrap him in a tight hug, like James did for him when he first found himself in another universe, to be the person who grounds James through hugs and laughter, to erase all of James's pain, which Teddy has caused.

"But then suddenly I am really confused because it seems like he's eyeing me up. And like, my thoughtless flirting _flustered_ him. And I'm like, no, that can't be. I tell myself I'm going crazy! I was so excited to see you, so I didn’t question it. But even though you looked like Teddy, everything about you felt different. I don’t know how to explain it. There was Teddy the godbrother I loved, and you seemed different in impossible ways. So I told myself it was impossible, that I was crazy, that I was making it all up somehow, that I need to ignore it. So I decide that I should cheer him up, because that's what brothers should do, so I say we should get drunk and play Uno—which, incidentally is a completely innocuous, non-sexy game!—and he fucking tries to kiss me! And he's married! He's. Married. So I push him the fuck away! But he looks hurt when I push him away, and it doesn’t compute.”

"James, I—"

"No, shut the fuck up and let me talk," he snaps. "So I'm like, okay, okay Potter, okay. This is fucked up. He tried to kiss you. This throws all your fucking assumptions about your family into question, but you're an adult, you can handle it. Teddy went crazy. Maybe Teddy was just drunk. Whatever, it's fine. You walk away and you pretend it never happened and whatever happens, you do not allow something like that to happen again.

"So the next day I get up and I leave the house super quickly because I am going to go flying, right? I'm not sticking around the house, and when I get home that night I have a letter from a person named Bev asking to meet, that it’s important and would I meet at the Leaky. So I go and they’re nice and they have a letter for me from Teddy."

James stops and takes a deep breath.

"I'm from another universe and my _chest is one big hole_ and _You answer questions I didn't know I was asking_?!?!" James stops and flops into a chair, all the air seeming to leach from his body. " _You answer questions I didn't know I was asking._ How. Fucking. Dare. You."

James pauses for a moment, then leans forward. “Of course as soon as I read the letter it all clicked into place and all the feelings and shit I’d been denying came flying forward. And you _weren’t there._ And I had to deal with it alone. With no one! No one!”

Teddy closes his eyes for a moment. He tries to do his dad's thing where he imagines himself growing bigger, more confident. It doesn't work. After way too long he forces his mouth open and says, "I'm sorry." His voice sounds small.

“I thought I was falling in love with my married godbrother,” James says, throwing a hand in the air. “It didn’t make any sense! Until it did. And I was so fucking mad, Teddy. But I’d also been falling for you for weeks, and I was so mad about it, and so mad at you for leaving me to deal with it. So I had to come yell at you in person.”

Teddy grimaces, hoping it looks repentant rather than unhinged. “You can keep yelling, if you want. I deserve it.”

James laughs, running his hand over his face.

"I don’t want to sound defensive,” Teddy says, “but just to explain. I thought that if I left a letter explaining, it would at least allow you to just hate me, and continue your normal relationship with the other Teddy. I didn't want you to hate him; he didn't do anything. It didn’t feel fair to leave you without an explanation. I didn’t know what else to do. I knew it wasn't a perfect solution, but nothing I could've done would've been, would it? And that letter was the truth!" Teddy looks down at his hands, then back up at James. "I mean, whatever else, at least it was the truth."

James presses the heels of his hands into his eyes for a moment, then suddenly stands up and stalks over to Teddy. "The letter was the truth? And you left without saying anything because the Unspeakables forced you?"

"Yes!" Teddy says. "Every word was the truth, and I tried to get them to—"

James jolts forward and grabs Teddy's cheeks with his hands. They're slightly cold and callused and Teddy can smell James's cinnamon and shampoo smell.

"You're such a moron," James whispers, and closes the space between them, pressing his hot lips against Teddy's.

And they're _kissing._ Teddy reaches his hands up, needing to hold onto him, to touch his body, to feel he exists. It’s right. It’s brilliant and bubbly and happy and alive and _fun._

__James pulls back and looks at him, waiting for something, some assessment.

At that hesitation, Teddy loses it, springs up off the table and wraps his arms behind James's back, earning a surprised chuckle between hot, hard, brief kisses.

"I'm really sorry," Teddy whispers. "I've spent the entire time since I've been back thinking about you, trying to figure out how to see you again." He presses their lips together, and James's mouth opens under his, letting their tongues brush, and a zap of magic, lust, blood pools in Teddy's stomach and he's hard, just like that, and he has never wanted someone like this before.

"If you don't stop saying you're sorry, I'm going to punch you in the sternum," James mumbles against Teddy's lips. "I know. I've spent all this time trying to see you, too. I don't think Nettles has ever been as surprised as he was when I bust into his office."

Teddy laughs, the force of it pulling him away from James's lips, and he lets his head fall to James's shoulder. "Oh fuck. I've been trying to figure out how you did that."

"Dad's invisibility cloak, of course," James says into Teddy's hair. "Your hair is turquoise. It wasn’t when I showed up.”

Teddy doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he hums against James.

"Fuck," James says, and squeezes Teddy around the back, filling Teddy with that same sensation he'd had when they first met—that no one has ever hugged him like this before. "This is actually happening. This is so fucked up, you know."

"I know."

"Like, super fucked up. There's no way Nettles is going to let us keep seeing each other."

"Probably not."

"And if I'm here I lose my family, and if you're there you lose your family."

"I know."

"But I really want to kiss you."

"I don't want you—us—to get hurt," Teddy says, logical uncertainty at war with his deep instinct that this is right.

James meets his eye with a fiery look. "But I want to kiss you. And you're right here."

"Well then I guess you should totally do it," Teddy says, laughing into the crease of James's neck and biting playfully on the taut tendon there.

James tenses at the bite and then melts, muttering "Oh Jesus fucking Merlin," and tipping Teddy’s chin up to capture his lips.

Teddy is nervous; guilt simmering in his gut for having misled James when he was in the other universe, but James has characteristically little apprehension now that they're here, and his hands are everywhere, the sensation of the embrace somehow enveloping Teddy from all directions even though he's taller than James.

"Really though, are we trying to do this?" Teddy whispers, and leans in for another kiss. “Like, try to work something out with Nettles, I mean. Not the snogging in the Ministry part.”

"In for a knut, in for a galleon," James whispers back, and Teddy has never been so happy to be talking to a Gryffindor. "Better to have—what's the saying?"

"Better to have loved and lost?" Teddy asks, sliding his hand under the hem of James's shirt.

James leans into Teddy's chest, their mouths tangling together, and reaches between Teddy's legs. "Shit fuck. We need to not be in the Ministry right now."

Teddy can't breathe. He sucks in a deliberate breath until he feels like he's not hyperventilating and answers, "Nettles said we couldn't leave the department. If I know him, that means he's put a tracking spell on us and we won't get five feet away before he boomerangs us back."

"Fuck," James says, squeezing his hand around Teddy's cock through his jeans.

"Stop," Teddy breathes.

James freezes, pulling his hand away. "Do you not…"

"No! No," Teddy reassures, reaching and pulling James back. "I just don't want to er, put the incantation before the wand. In the middle of my workplace."

James pulls back and flashes a wicked grin that does all sorts of things to Teddy's insides. "Oh really?"

Teddy closes his eyes, trying to get himself under control. "I've been thinking of you almost non-stop since I got back here. Really. Maybe we can try to get Nettles to agree to let us leave?"

"You think I'm that easy to get to go home with you?" James asks, with mock offence. "Me?" He trails his hand up and down his right side, indicating his body.

Teddy laughs, and fuck, he's missed James. "You're ridiculous."

"Where are you planning to take me?" James keeps teasing, taking a step backward. "A room-by-hour hotel? Do I look like that kind of bloke?"

Teddy walks forward, pressing James's back against the wall, and grins. "You kinda seem like the type of bloke who'd drop trou in the middle of Level Nine, so I dunno."

James presses his body into Teddy’s, latching his lips to Teddy's neck. "Hmmmmm, you think so?"

Teddy laughs again, and it comes out breathy. "Let's go convince Nettles to let us out of here. You can come see my flat."

"Okay," James says, pulling back, and his smile melts away Teddy's guilt and doubt and worry. He might as well concern himself with right now, not with what happens next.

Teddy twines his fingers with James's and leads him out of the room. "So how exactly did you get here?" he asks, his tone soft.

"No one else could travel here." James shrugs. "They all have counterparts who are Unspeakables in this universe. Well, Bev could've come, but they understandably don't want to come back here. So once they figured out how to, er, I don't know their lingo, but how to declare the destination of the universe they wanted to go to, they wanted to make contact, and I had passed the TTRA and already knew you." James looks at Teddy. "Well, and I've been annoying the fuck out of them nonstop, too, so I think they wanted to shut me up. Or get rid of me." He grins unrepentantly.

Teddy laughs and knocks on the door to Nettles's office.

"You may enter!"

Teddy opens the door, drops James's hand, and they walk in.

"Oh, good," Nettles comments. "I was wondering if I'd have to go after you."

"Sir," Teddy says, "we were hoping for permission to go to my flat."

Nettles opens and closes his mouth like a blowfish, his rosaceous face jiggling with indignation. He leans back in his chair. "Forgive me, I wasn't aware that my job involved granting dispensations for…and arranging the logistics of…trysts."

James laughs in a way that immediately diffuses the tension, and Teddy's seized by an admiration of James's social skills. He hasn't really seen James with people other than his family, but James has a way of doing the right thing to put people—including, apparently, Nettles—at ease. Nettles raises an amused eyebrow at James's chuckle. Where Teddy would've somehow made it more awkward, James makes it seem like they're all in on the joke together.

"Sir," James says, "your counterpart in my universe skilfully arranged for me to stay here for up to three days. My family knows not to expect me, and Head Unspeakable Nettles rerouted all owls addressed to me. They are being sent to the Department of Mysteries so as not to arouse suspicion I'm missing."

Nettles's face settles into smugness. "Well, in that case I suppose—"

Teddy can almost taste freedom; he has a vision of James in this universe, in his flat, his perpetually unwanted shirt shucked from his body—

"But first," Nettles continues, looking at James, and Teddy sighs, "I need a full report about the proceedings of the department in your universe."

"James isn't an Unspeakable," Teddy points out, annoyed on James's behalf that he's being bossed around as if he's on the payroll.

"It's alright," James says. "I have a report for you. From, er, you. From other Nettles. Nettles prime."

"If there is a 'Nettles prime,' he is me," Nettles insists, slapping one hand on his desk.

"Er, okay," James says, pulling the report from his pocket. "From Nettles Junior."

Nettles looks at the ceiling and takes a deep breath. "Give me strength," he whispers, then opens the report, clicking his tongue as he reads. "They figured out the destination input as part of the incantation; excellent, that's what Tajik and Holmes have been working on. They want you to settle things with Lupin so that the two universes won't exist in a state of disequilibrium. What does 'disequilibrium' even mean in this context? I need to get Croaker in here to discuss this."

Nettles prattles on, and Teddy wonders why they need to be here, listening to Nettles monologue, when they could be elsewhere. Doing things.

"Potter," Nettles says finally, looking up, "there's no chance of running into another version of yourself here, because you don't exist."

"Correct, sir."

"And you don't look enough like either of your parents that it's a problem. But you need to use a different name if you meet someone here, including with Unspeakables not privy to the details of this case."

"Okay," James says.

Nettles sighs. "Yes, alright, you can go. I just need to administer the Vow, because it needs to be administered in each distinct universe. Do I have your consent?”

James nods, and Nettles performs the spell.

“But listen,” Nettles demands upon completion of the vow, “don't leave Lupin's flat. Come back here first thing tomorrow, both of you—we need to figure a few things out."

James turns and walks out of the room, and Teddy trips getting up out of his seat, slamming his hip bone into Nettles's desk, knocking over a cup of gummy eyeballs.

"Alright there, son?" Nettles asks, amused.

"Yeah, I, yes, fine, I'll just—" Teddy flees into the corridor and sees James leaning against the wall a few steps away.

Teddy walks up to him as though magnetised. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

He asks because he has to ask. Because the truth is Teddy knows it's a terrible idea. It will end in heartache and misery, but it feels so, so right and he can't bring himself to call on rational logic right now.

"Let's do it anyway," James says, shrugging a shoulder with bravado. "We'll find a way to make it work. You're you, I'm me, we can figure something out." James pauses. "Right?"

The look on his face is one that Teddy's not used to being on the receiving end of. It looks like he's...asking for advice from someone older whom he trusts. But this isn't the moment for Teddy to pretend to be an older brother figure who blindly reassures.

"I don't know," Teddy says. "We can try. We can split time between universes? Or just keep it from our families and friends or whatever the Nettleses say to do. We can convince them to let us stay together because we need to run experiments or something. I don't know, but I won't run away."

James's face turns fierce. "You better not run away from me again. I swear to Merlin, Teddy, if you do I will be gone faster than you can say _Evanesco_ and I will never forgive you for it. If we need to break things off, or if it isn't going to work, we will talk about it and then go back to our separate universes or whatever. Okay?"

"Yes," Teddy says, "Yes, of course, yes."

"Well in that case, obviously we're doing this," James says, his smile lighting up his whole face. "Now. Which way to the Floo?


	4. Chapter 4

"Holy fuck," Teddy breathes, looking up at the ceiling and panting.

"Yeah," James huffs, rolling onto his back next to Teddy. "Fuck."

"That was—"

"Yes. Good, it was good."

"You're—fuck."

"You too," James laughs. "You're very 'fuck.'"

Teddy turns to look at him, and a huge smile breaks out on his face. James is naked, and gorgeous, and mussed, and _laughing_ , and Teddy thrums with contentment and satiety. "You're fun," he jabbers, reaching over to trail his fingers down James's arm.

James laughs again and sits up, throws a leg over Teddy and lowers himself to sit on Teddy's stomach, legs tucked on either side of Teddy's torso.

"I'm not up for another go yet," Teddy says, raising his eyebrows as he pillows his hands under his head.

"Oh really, old man?" James says, mocking, but then grins and says, "Me neither. Now you're not lying to me anymore, tell me about yourself. Tell me about your parents."

The way James is sitting makes his stomach crinkle up against itself and Teddy's heart clenches with affection. He reaches forward and touches, because he can now, because he wants to feel James's skin under his fingers to reassure himself that he's real. He pinches James's stomach and watches as James's mouth curls into a slow smile.

"Do you want to get dressed?" Teddy asks.

"Why the fuck would I want to do that?" James challenges. "Naked is best. Plus this way I get to look at you. I can't believe you have a fucking nipple ring. Can I touch it?"

Teddy nods, running his hands up James's thighs. He closes his eyes when James's fingers touch his nipple. A vague arousal sparks through him, and he tries to remember what he's supposed to be talking about. "My parents are great. My dad teaches DADA at Hogwarts and my mum is one of the veteran Aurors—she mostly trains new recruits now. My dad is the kind of bloke who seems swotty, and so you think he might be boring, but then you realise that he's actually a total oddball with a fierce streak of impulsive Gryffindorness. My mum is hilarious and was a wonderful disaster at parenting me when I was small because she and I would get going with all these schemes, like, let's make slime!, and then my dad would come home to slimy cauldrons and everything covered in glitter."

James listens, grinning, and leans to run his hand down the side of Teddy's face, over his stubble. "Your beard is turquoise."

Teddy closes his eyes and taps into his appearance magic, and when he opens his eyes, James is laughing as he strokes Teddy's cheek with his thumb. "You made it red." A second later he adds, "I'm glad you got your parents. I mean, I know the other Teddy is fine and it worked out, but…"

Teddy swallows. "Yeah." He tightens his grip on James's sides. "Tell me about your dad…as a dad. I only know the Harry who is childless. Yours seems like the consummate dad."

James laughs, leaning back on his heels so his weight presses into Teddy's lower abdomen. "He is that, I think. Like, dad jokes and dad jeans. He's…not perfect, but we've never doubted for a second how much he loves us. He's protective and loving and fun." James stops. He looks like he's thinking. "I dunno, you get the feeling he appreciates everything, life."

"Sounds about right," Teddy says. He feels besotted, looking at James. "Does my smile look besotted?"

James cocks his head to the side, assessing. "Yes, but like, you could look _more_ besotted. Hold on." He strikes a pose. "Try now."

Teddy laughs, the motion shaking James's body.

"What's my dad like here?" James asks.

"He's great. He runs a charity. Well, he doesn't run like, the finances, but he does the long-term planning and project prioritisation and brings in lots of money for fundraisers. He always used to take me out to London or to Quidditch games when I was a kid. You know, that sort of thing. We're close."

"It's weird," James says. "I can't imagine him not being a dad. I can't imagine him happy without kids. I guess that's kind of self-serving, isn't it?"

"A bit." Teddy laughs. "But you know, your dad is different than my Harry. They're not the same person."

"Right," James says and then sighs. "I need to figure out how to stop my brain from wanting to connect you with the other Teddy. I guess it'll happen, with time."

"Did you ever fancy him?" Teddy asks, and it's a stupid question and it will probably make him jealous but he can't stop himself from asking it.

"I mean, no?" James says.

"That didn't sound very, er, confident?" Teddy asks, laughing, but his chest feels tight.

"I thought you—he—was fit, when I was a teenager and figuring out my sexuality. Well, I probably shouldn't use the phrase 'figuring out' because it wasn't a long process; it was more like, I realised quickly that it was blokes I liked looking at, and I told everyone that night at dinner. But like, I never _fancied_ him. This is hard. We need a different name for him versus you."

Teddy scrunches his nose. "I can be T-Lupz."

James makes a valiant effort not to laugh, but he gives in. "T _Lupz_? Good Godric. But no, I didn’t fancy him, which is why I was so fucking confused why I was fancying you.”

A thrill runs through Teddy’s chest at hearing James say that so casually. “That must’ve been strange.”

“It made sense once I got your letter,” James says. “Before that I thought I was going crazy. What, would I get the hots for Albus next? I mean, whatever, people can ignore inconvenient arousal, but it wasn’t just that.”

“It wasn’t?” Teddy asks with a slow smile.

“Are you fishing for compliments?” James cocks an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” Teddy admits, running his hands up and down James’s Quidditch-musculed thighs, loving the soft, fuzzy feel of his leg hair.

“It felt like we were starting a relationship,” James says, suddenly serious. “I didn’t quite realise that at the time, but now—didn’t it?”

“I thought the same thing.” Teddy smiles. “Only I’m sure it was more confusing for you, because I wanted to know everything about you, and you must’ve thought you already knew everything about me…”

“Yeah,” James says. “I mean, the second I got your letter it all made sense.” He blows out a gust of air, runs a hand through his messy hair. “I realised then we’d basically just had the world’s oddest falling-for-each-other experience.”

“The multiverse’s oddest,” Teddy agrees. “But about the other Teddy...” He pauses, trying to figure out how to put into words what’s been bothering him. He knows it is futile to worry about the happiness of his other selves, but he can’t help wonder. “Is he...happy?”

“Is Teddy happy?” James asks, then laughs. “Merlin, yes. Did our nostalgic missing him make you think he was like, sad?”

“I didn’t know,” Teddy says. “Why did he go to Australia in the first place? You said he went after his grandmother died, that things were overwhelming here. I mean there. You know what I mean.”

James chews his lip. “I mean, I don’t know. I know what he told me. He was young then, you know, after Hogwarts, and you know how it is. What is it that baby boomers say about us? That we can’t grow up, you know? So he got hired at this paper in Melbourne and thought he’d stay for like a year. We didn’t want him to go—me and Dad, especially, because we were closest. But he thrived there.”

“Really?” Teddy is fascinated.

“Yes!” James says, laughing. “I mean, to be honest, I always felt a bit like he’d abandoned me, which is like my own younger sibling issue and probably what you picked up on. But like, I can’t fault him for it. He ended up putting down roots there. He loves his job. Brianna is great. She’s a visual artist. He’s like, _obsessed._ Which is why we all thought it was so strange when you showed up alone.”

Teddy winces. “You have no idea how confused I was.”

James bursts into laughter, leaning down to press kisses along Teddy’s collarbone. “You were bowled over by my charm and good looks, weren’t you?”

Teddy laughs, breathless from his reaction to the kisses and James smushing his belly. “More like, ‘Who the fuck are these people?’”

“Teddy’s happy,” James breathes into Teddy’s neck. “We write letters pretty often. He and Dad write each other at least once a week. Does that set your mind at ease?”

“Yes,” Teddy says, moving his head to catch James’s lips with his, leaning into the heat of James’s mouth with his whole upper body.

James kisses back with an enthusiasm that has Teddy’s ears buzzing, then sits up. “Alright T-Lupz,” he urges, reaching forward to fiddle with Teddy’s nipple piercing again, “when did you come out?"

Teddy sucks in a breath at the sensation and shrugs, trying to keep his mind on the conversation. "I guess I didn't, really. At least, not to my parents. They're both…flexible. My dad dated Sirius for ages, my mum lived with a bruja in Catalonia for like…two years? They think everyone is at least a little gay, so…I almost feel like I only would've had to talk to them about it if I was coming out as straight."

"Your dad was with Sirius?"

"Well, yeah," Teddy says. "Doesn't everyone know?"

James shrugs. "I dunno. My dad was pretty young when Sirius died; he could've just been oblivious."

"What's your favourite kind of ice cream?" Teddy asks.

"Mint choc chip, you?"

"Honey ginger," Teddy says.

"Honey fucking ginger?" James asks. "Who picks honey fucking ginger?"

"Someone who grew up with access to the Malfoy family's house-elves. They make the most incredible honey ginger ice cream." Teddy props himself up on his forearms. "I'm hungry now. I wonder if I have any ice cream."

"Why'd you go to the Malfoys'?" James asks. "Were you friends with Scorpius?"

"Oh shit," Teddy says, laughing. "Did I not write that in the letter?"

"Write what?" James asks.

The Floo roars.

Oh shit.

Teddy's Floo, which is visible through the open bedroom door, admits only five people beside him: his parents, Harry and Draco, and his grandmother. Teddy doesn't know who to hope it is. His parents, he supposes.

But as soon as Teddy sees the shiny oxfords and the dirty trainers in the fire, he knows he's doomed, and it's like time slows down. He knows he should like, close the bedroom door, but they're both naked and his wand isn't at hand, and oh god—

"Hey Ted, are you here? We were worried when you didn't—" Harry's voice halts as he makes eye contact through the doorway.

"DAD?!"

Teddy squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, but then he has to look, out of morbid curiosity.

"What—?!" Harry cries. "Oh, sweet Merlin."

Draco, face red, spins on his fancy heel and then, when he realises Harry is still staring, grabs Harry's arm and jerks him out of his stupor to face the far wall.

"Well," Draco says. "We should've perhaps Flooed before we popped round."

"We'll just—" Harry starts.

"No. No, no, it's okay," Teddy says, his face burning with embarrassment. "Just give us a minute to get dressed. Might as well embrace the awkward."

"Right you are," Harry says, holding his hand above his head and wandlessly slamming the bedroom door shut, rattling the jamb.

James looks at Teddy, his mouth hanging open. "I'm an idiot. That's not—not my dad. That's your Harry. I forgot."

"It's understandable," Teddy says, sitting up, and James rises up and knees himself backward and off the bed.

"Why's he with Mr Malfoy?" James asks.

"That's what I was just about to tell you." Teddy stops, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting his hands on his knees. "Honestly, this might be more than you can handle. Maybe I should just ask them to leave?"

James straightens up to his full height, making himself look imposing. "I scored a fucking _eleven_ on the TTAR. Don't you dare underestimate me."

Teddy stares, his apprehension washing away under a tide of admiration. "It's TTRA, and, yeah, okay. Harry and Draco have been together since I was like two. They're like, my second parents. Or my big brothers, or something like that."

"Dad's gay?"

"Yeah."

"Dad's gay with Mr Malfoy?"

Teddy nods. He has no idea how James will take this.

James laughs—just a chuckle. "You have got to be fucking kidding me." He laughs harder, doubling over with the force of it as he retrieves his discarded boxers from the floor. "Oh my god. Oh my god I can't stop laughing."

James has his leg halfway through a pair of boxers covered in tiny glittering Sorting Hats. He's folded over at the waist, his chest and head shaking with laughter, and he looks up and catches Teddy's eye. "They're like Albus Senior and Scorpius Senior!" His face is red from laughter and a sea of splotchy red marks obscure his freckles.

Teddy strides across the room, grabs James's face with two hands, and plants a hard kiss on his lips.

James stops laughing. "What was that for?"

"Nothing. Let's get dressed and I'll go introduce you to your not-dad."

"Yeah." James pulls on his jeans and starts laughing again. "I wish I could tell Al. The look on his face…"

"I haven't, er, told Harry and Draco," Teddy admits, "about Albus and Scorpius. So can we just like, omit that?"

"Yeah. That can just be what I think about from now on any time I need to conjure a Patronus."

Teddy snorts as he pulls on a shirt, and he jumps when James comes behind him and places gentle hands on Teddy's chest.

"Hold still," James whispers. "I left a mark." He pulls his wand and taps Teddy's skin, a soothing magic settling over his collarbone.

Teddy turns, leaning to kiss James's mouth, loving that he can and not over the novelty.

James pushes Teddy away. "We better go out there, lest we get, er, distracted in here. I need to make a good impression on my not-dad."

"Right you are," Teddy says, and leads him into the sitting room.

Harry and Draco are sat on the sofa, chatting in a manner meant to seem idle, but which Teddy can tell is, in fact, anything but casual.

"So I told Minerva there's no way I can teach a lesson to the N.E.W.T. students about mind-altering potions," Draco drones, "unless they get a special dispensation from the Minister or convince the Wizengamot to classify 'education' as an acceptable rationale for exemption from the alihotsy ban."

"Well, yes," Harry says, and Draco glares at him as if to suggest that he needs to at least pretend to be doing his part to carry the conversation.

"Alihotsy is cleared for medicine, isn't it?" James says, and Teddy turns to look at him with surprise. "It's often in remedies for joint injury. You can only buy one phial at a time from the apothecary." He sticks out his hand at Harry. "Hi, I'm James. Not your son, but you know, not _not_ your son."

Harry breaks into a huge grin, apparently delighted with his not-progeny. "Harry," he says. "Not your dad."

"Draco Malfoy," Draco announces, redundantly in Teddy's opinion, and James shakes his hand.

"Sorry," Teddy says, "about, er, that." He points vaguely at the bedroom.

"Nothing we haven't seen before," Harry says, then seems to realise how awkward that is and wrinkles his nose. "So! James is here!"

"Mmmm," Teddy hums, wishing for the sweet relief of death or sudden transportation to another universe.

"That's quite a surprise," Harry says.

"How long will you be staying?" Draco asks, sounding preposterously like Narcissa.

"I've been cleared to stay for up to three days," James says, sitting down in an armchair and crossing one ankle on the other knee. "I'm supposed to be 'stabilising a disequilibrium' between our two universes by talking to Teddy."

"And would you say it's been...stabilised?" Draco asks, his eyes shining with amusement.

Harry chokes, hand flying up to his mouth to cover a laugh. "Interesting. And—after three days?" He looks to Teddy, his eyes filled with an enormous amount of sympathy that Teddy can't quite bear to see.

Teddy knows, on one hand, that he and James are being a little delusional. Maybe a lot delusional. James said, "In for a knut, in for a galleon," but Teddy can't help think that attitude will end up hurting them. Will end up hurting _James,_ and Teddy doesn't want to hurt James. On the other hand, though, Teddy believes they can figure this out. He's an Unspeakable; that's what he does—figure things out. And James! James Potter clearly gets everything he wants in life. Where there's a will, there's a way. Where there's a will _and_ a Potter…

Teddy looks at his lap, wondering how to answer.

"Not sure yet," James says. Teddy looks up and catches his eye, his small smile. "Anyway," James says, blatantly changing the subject, "who wants to talk about me? Did you know I play Quidditch for Puddlemere?"

"What position?" Harry asks, lighting up.

"Chaser."

"Who are the other Chasers?" Draco asks. "Lundgren, Slope, Smith?"

"Lundgren and Smith. Is Slope on the team in this universe?!"

"Yes," Draco says, "he's terrible!"

James sighs, leaning back. "Well that's a disaster. What's our standing? With Slope I bet we didn't beat the Pride of Portree."

Draco leans forward. "We lost that game. You won it?!"

"Fuck yes we did!" James says.

"Well that's it, Harry, we have to move to James's universe."

James laughs and launches into a play-by-play.

"I'll make some tea," Teddy whispers to Harry and slips into the kitchen. He takes a breath and tries to collect himself. It's fine, it's going fine. No multiverse collapse.

He reaches for a tin of the tea his grandmother likes and puts it on the counter, then pulls out the Brown Betty teapot. He waves his wand at the kettle.

"Hey," Harry says, walking into the room. Teddy turns and gives him a smile. "Are you okay?" Harry asks.

"Are _you_ okay?" Teddy counters.

Harry blows out a puff of air and runs his hand through his hair. "I mean, it's weird. But it doesn't feel like he's my son. Does that make sense? Should he? He feels like he's someone else's kid."

Teddy shrugs, measuring three spoonfuls of leaves into the pot. "I suspect Coffey would say there's no right way to feel, but I think that's how you should feel. He isn't your son."

"But what will happen when he has to go back?" Harry worries. "I thought we were trying to come up with a plan that was a little less, er, temporary. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Teddy insists, wondering if he thinks it's a lie. He pours the boiling water over the tea leaves, watching them swirl around in the hot water. "I'll figure out the plan then. A longer-term plan."

"It was never the goal for you to have him for only three days," Harry says.

"I know!" Teddy snaps, then feels guilty. He should be nicer to Harry. The man has found out he has children with someone who isn't his partner in a different universe, and he's seen his not-son naked on top of his godson, and he's met this person who has half his genes, but Harry's not freaking out about any of it because his instinct is to care for _Teddy._ Because Teddy, not James, is the one who's like a son to him. Because this Harry belongs to Teddy. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap."

Harry smiles. "It's okay. Understandable. High emotions all around today, eh? I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Too late," Teddy quips, and attempts to flash a confident smile. He waves his wand to load the teapot and cups onto a tray, casts a spell to Vanish the tea leaves.

"Hey," Harry says, and puts his hand on Teddy's arm. Teddy turns and Harry pulls him into a warm embrace. "We're not going anywhere, okay? We'll help you figure it out. And Teddy? James seems great. I'm not just saying that because he's like, half made of my genes."

Teddy laughs into Harry's shoulder. "He is, isn't he?"

"He makes you happy."

"Yeah."

"Well then let's go figure this out."

"Hey T-Lupz!" James calls. "Tell Mr Malfoy about how you tried to go running with me!"

"Please for the love of Salazar, call me Draco. That makes me feel like my father."

Harry picks up the tray. " _T-Lupz_?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Teddy says, but he's grinning as he follows Harry into the sitting room.

***

Teddy wakes, face pressed against a pillow, to strong hands rubbing down his back.

"Hey," James whispers in his ear.

"Mmmphggh," Teddy groans. "What time is it?"

"Eight," James says. "We're supposed to go into Level Nine in a bit." He drags his fingernails down Teddy's back.

"That feels good," Teddy mumbles, bringing his arms up and folding them under his head, which he turns to look at James. James's hair is wild. He's of course shirtless, but he looks wide awake. "You're like, a morning person, aren't you?" Teddy asks, unsurprised but somewhat incredulous when faced with the reality of it.

"I have a lot of energy in general," James whispers, grinning. "Can I rub you?"

Teddy's eyebrows shoot up. "Er—"

"Your back," James says, squeezing at Teddy's trapezius. "Although if you have another idea—"

Teddy snorts. "Yeah, go ahead."

James scrambles on top of him, sitting on his arse, then his hands are on Teddy's shoulders, pressing into the muscles. Teddy can feel the tension bleeding out under James's hands and moans.

"You're so fit," James says, and Teddy can hear the smile in his voice.

"You're crazy," Teddy mumbles. "You're a professional Quidditch player. You look incredible. I'm scrawny."

James's hands press into the muscles underneath Teddy's scapulas. "Scrawny? No way. Lanky, maybe. But like, you have great shoulders."

"Really?" Teddy finds he's curious; no one's ever said anything about his shoulders before.

"Fuck yes." James lifts himself off Teddy's arse to leverage his weight down into his hands, causing Teddy's back to crack. "But you slump too much. You spend too much time hunched over a desk, don't you?"

"Probably," Teddy says. "Wait, so how were you able to talk with Bev, after you got my letter? Wasn't Bev kept silent by the vow?"

"Ah, yes," James says, laughing. "Well, after Bev gave me the letter but then wasn't able to talk when I started screaming questions at them, I marched straight into Nettles's office and showed him the letter. He was furious, but at that point I knew about what was going on with you and I threatened him when he mentioned Obliviation. I, er, may have used the fact that my father is Head Auror. Anyway, Bev and Nettles and some other Unspeakables decided to administer the vow to me. But it's limited to this one case; it's not like I have clearance or anything."

Teddy laughs. "Who was there? Shruthi Haradas? And Farzad Tajik?"

"Yeah, I think. Anyway, Bev stood up for me. I think they felt bad for me."

Teddy twists his head around to look at James. "Did they tell you about how Bev is from this universe? And worried they'd be sent back, away from their family?"

"Yeah," James says. "I heard allllll the gossip. I was there bothering them a lot. Well, I was pretending to help research, but since I didn't actually know how the department works, I was mostly bothering them. It was fun."

"You had fun?"

"I mean, I was pissed at you and worried about things, but it was kinda fun. I had a mission." James presses hard into the fleshy part of Teddy's lower back above his arse.

Teddy groans, then asks, "So what'd you tell Bev?"

"I told them you were an arsehole who told me you were from a different universe and in love with me in a fucking _letter_ and that I needed to come yell at you. Bev and I got on great; they wanted to ask me a billion questions about Quidditch and stuff. Anyway, so they told me we wouldn't be able to get cleared for inter-universal travel for the purpose of yelling at you, so we researched and they came up with an argument about the possibility of unstable universes due to our lack of closure. Which, I'm not sure if that's bullshit or not, but it was at least plausible, since there's so little research or historical evidence, so we convinced Nettles to try. Also we knew that your Nettles was also trying to figure out how to come up with more stable inter-universal travel with more precise destination input, so that helped convince Nettles we should do it."

"The two Nettleses working together via inter-universal messages was really fucking weird," Teddy says.

"Seems like he couldn't decide whether he should be proud of the other Nettles or trying to beat him."

Teddy snorts. "Yeah. So what did they end up deciding, once they figured out the technical stuff? They told your family you were out of town and covered for you?"

"Yeah," James says. "I told Mum and Dad I was going to Dorset for training, and the Unspeakables rerouted all correspondence to me so that no one will figure out I'm not there."

"But you have to go back."

"Well, yeah. I can't just disappear; my dad is Head Auror. He'd tear apart all of England trying to find me."

Teddy feels some of the tightness creep back into his muscles, despite the continued movement of James’s hands.

"What about here?" James asks. "They administered the vow to your family? Because my not-dad and Draco seemed to know everything…"

"Yeah, they gave them the vow for this one case, like they did for you."

James hums his understanding. "Can we go see your parents after we talk to Nettles?"

"You want to meet my parents?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"I mean, you have to leave soon."

"Well sure, but we'll figure something out. And I've been hearing about them my whole life. I want to meet them. And they're your parents! And we're doing this. I mean, I'm in. So yeah, I want to meet your parents."

Teddy rolls over so he can look at James, his heart clenching with how much he loves James's forthrightness, his lack of doubt. "It's just hard for me to know how to relate to it all, when we don't have a plan yet."

"I have a plan," James proclaims.

"What?"

James leans down, buries his face in Teddy's stomach, and blows a raspberry.

Teddy laughs, confused.

"I don't want to worry about it right now, okay?" James says, pushing Teddy's hair away from his eyes. "Plans are for people who want to put off enjoyment until later."

Teddy laughs and answers, "Fine by me."

James lands on top of him, no longer holding himself up with his arms. Their mouths slide together and James reaches between them to fondle Teddy's nipple piercing.

"Seems like maybe you like the nipple piercing," Teddy whispers, grinning against James's face.

"I like _you_ ," James says.

Teddy laughs and flips them over.

***

"So we ask Nettles how we can keep seeing each other," Teddy says, running through their plan of attack as they wind through the labyrinth of the Department of Mysteries.

"No," James says, "no. Is this how Hufflepuffs negotiate? No. We _tell_ him we're going to keep seeing each other."

"We just march in there assuming we'll get what we want from the strength of our conviction?"

"Pretty sure that's how my dad won the war." James grins.

"And we counter his objections with solutions, if we can," Teddy says. "Of course, I don't fucking know what the solution is."

"Doesn't matter," James says. "We insist that it's possible and that we trust he can come up with a plan. Nettles responds well to flattery."

Teddy snorts and looks at James. "What?"

"He does! How do you think I convinced him to give me the vow and let me come here? The man is a sucker for praise."

Teddy shakes his head with a smile and waves at Imelda.

"You can go through to his office," she says, giving James a curious look.

James grabs Teddy's hand and threads their fingers together. "Visible show of solidarity," he whispers.

Before they can knock, Nettles throws the door open. "The prodigal sons."

"Hello, sir!" Teddy enthuses, trying to appear as certain as James. Nettles can come up with a plan. He always does.

"How's it going, Zeke?" James says, sitting in a chair and making himself at home.

Teddy remembers that James has been seeing a lot of the other Nettles lately, but _Zeke_? He turns to James and shakes his head with incredulity.

James grins at Teddy while they wait for Nettles to settle at his desk. When he sits, James says, "So. Teddy and I are going to keep seeing each other. We're wondering if you already have a plan to make this work or if we should start drawing one up now?"

Teddy almost laughs at James's brazenness, and turns to look at Nettles, dying to know how his boss will react to it.

Nettles scrunches his mouth forward, then sighs and smacks his lips together. "Mr Potter. You're exactly what I would expect from a son of Harry Potter."

James smiles. "Thank you!"

"I already met with Unspeakables Tajik, Haradas, and Croaker about this, after I saw the two of you." He narrows his eyes and looks between the two of them. "Yesterday."

Teddy nods, unwilling to interrupt.

"We have concerns," Nettles continues, and Teddy's stomach drops. "We need to consider the logistics of the other Teddy who lives in James's universe. It's absolutely verboten for this Teddy to encounter that Teddy, or for anyone else to realise that there are two Teddys present in one universe. And because that Teddy isn't an Unspeakable and lives on another continent, it's hard for us to know the best way to deal with it."

James nods, as if this is an easy enough task.

"Secondly, Smith in Life is concerned about the health effects of frequent inter-universal travel. We don't have any evidence it's safe for your health. Mind you, we don’t have any evidence it’s _unsafe,_ either. He's also concerned about the possibility of inter-universal germ transfer. Inter-universal plague, or something."

Teddy exhales, trying to trick his stomach into relaxing.

"Third, and this is probably the most difficult obstacle," Nettles says. _Worse than inter-universal_ plague _?_ Teddy’s mind screams. "Tajik is worried about having an 'open link' between universes."

"What do you mean, open link?" James asks.

Nettles heaves a sigh. "Well, the idea is that the potentiality of a destabilising entropy increase caused by interaction between universes is much more likely if there's an ongoing interaction rather than a one-and-done intercourse between universes. The multiverse's hypothesised ability to minimise incongruities may deal with single-event universe interaction much better than sustained interaction."

"But Bev has been in the other universe for, what, ten years?" James asks, confused.

"Yes but Bev left this universe and never came back," Nettles says. "Bev had no intention of sustaining contact—they wanted a fresh start."

"So what you're saying," Teddy observes, "is that we have evidence that a one-off interaction between universes and the information contamination therein is not necessarily a problem, but that there's a chance that ongoing correspondence between universes could overpower the multiverse's incongruity correction mechanism and cause an increase in multiuniversal entropy that could, hypothetically, cause a gravitational singularity."

"Essentially," Nettles agrees.

"Wait a second," James says. "Isn't a gravitational singularity a fucking black hole?"

"Erm," Teddy says, "yes."

"Yes, yes it is," Nettles says. He reaches forward and pinches a gummy eyeball in his fingers, throwing it into his mouth. "Eyeball?" he offers.

Teddy declines, wondering if they're the same eyeballs he knocked onto the floor yesterday, but James pops one into his mouth.

"So you're saying it's possible that if James and I continue to see each other," Teddy says, his throat clenching, "that it might cause a black hole."

"Mind you," Nettles says, sticking a finger in his mouth to pry the eyeball off one of his teeth, "I don't think that's likely. Tajik was working with qualitative methods." He raises an eyebrow, seeking commiseration, as if Teddy will join in him disparaging qualitative methods.

"But you think it's possible," Teddy presses.

"Welllllll," Nettles equivocates. "Yes."

Teddy feels like the floor is opening beneath him, like the black hole has come for him early, because he knows how Unspeakables react to hypothetical issues and he knows this is looking very, very bad for him and James, although Nettles hasn't actually said that.

"Whatever," James says. "Gravitational singularities are caused by magic. We can like—" he mimes waving a wand, "deal with it."

"Only a Potter," Nettles whispers, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Teddy stares at James, for once finding he agrees with Nettles. Would this be easier if he were a Gryffindor, too? Teddy's never been the type to rush into things without a clear understanding, without a plan. He was the one in the Hufflepuff dorm who helped people figure out plans to reach their goals. Teddy has always followed his heart, but he follows his heart with a fair bit of research and planning. He's always wondered if it has to do with his upbringing: he was raised by a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff, and then he had the world's foremost Gryffindor and a Slytherin around all the time, plus his grandmother, Narcissa, and Lucius—all Slytherins. The only house not represented in his upbringing was Ravenclaw, and Tonks had long joked that Teddy became a devoted researcher to bring balance to their family by being as much like a Ravenclaw as possible. "Of course," she always says, "wanting to bring balance is a Hufflepuff trait." In any case, Teddy is well-rounded. He prizes spontaneous decision-making as well as plans and stratagems.

But he can't relate to James's optimism. Teddy _wants_ to be optimistic, he _wants_ to think they'll come up with a solution that allows them to be together without making unpalatable sacrifices, but he's also just been told that it might actually cause a fucking black hole. Teddy can't just hand-wave away a _black hole._

He looks into James’s hazel eyes, trying to figure out what James is thinking. Is James delusional? Is he being wilfully ignorant? But Teddy doesn't see denial in his eyes, he sees determination. He sees belief and willingness. James looks like the character in a heroic journey.

Teddy is realising that James is—romantic. Not like flowers and chocolates and Madam Puddifoot's, like he believes in romance. He believes in them. The sure glint in his eye, the certainty of his assertions, his unflagging belief it will work.

It feels like James's life plays against a background of grand love stories: Harry and Ginny, childhood sweethearts, torn apart by war but reunited in the rubble; Arthur and Molly, together forever, seven children and countless grandchildren, always putting family first; James and Lily, bickering children who fell in love, conceived a Saviour, and died in an act of sacrificial love that saved the world.

Teddy doesn't feel like that. He just feels worried. He just feels like he might hurt James again.

Because Teddy didn't grow up with those narratives. Teddy grew up with a dad who loves his mum but who never stopped grieving Sirius. Teddy grew up knowing Remus loves Tonks, but also knowing the very fact that his parents are in a relationship means that there is no such thing as soulmates. Teddy grew up with Harry and Draco, a couple who make it work through sheer force of will, thwarting expectations at every turn and dealing with the fall-out. Harry and Draco don't seem inevitable, they seem like they work because they _make_ it work.

Maybe the problem is that Teddy isn't romantic enough.

All Teddy knows is, the world—both worlds, either world, all the worlds—being swallowed by a black hole is not his idea of a love story, regardless how Romeo-and-Juliet tragic it might be.

"We need a plan," Teddy says, panic fluttering in his chest, and James gives him an assessing look. Teddy turns to Nettles. "What's your plan?"

"I don't have one," Nettles says, and Teddy's stomach clenches. He feels nauseated as Nettles continues talking. "But I'm talking with the others and we are looking at what we can do."

Teddy knows it's more than he deserves from this man—his boss, the head Unspeakable, not a matchmaker.

"Teddy," Nettles says, and Teddy snaps up, realising he's been staring at the constantly morphing painting behind Nettles's desk. "We will do our best to figure something out. It's not just about you and Potter; we need to make sure that the meddling we've accidentally done so far won't have ill effects.”

"There's gotta be a way to test whether the entropy is increasing, right?" James muses, and Teddy loves how James jumps into the discussion. "Because if we can show it's not—"

"Maybe," Nettles sighs. "Farzad is working on that." He tilts his head, studying James. "What subjects did you get N.E.W.T.s in, Potter? You seem very on top of all this."

James smiles, his dimple and freckles and self-assured pride doing interesting things to Teddy's stomach, which was already reeling from worry. "I have passing N.E.W.T.s in Potions, Transfig, DADA, History, Herbology, and Charms."

Teddy's mouth falls open. "You have six N.E.W.T.s?"

James turns and raises an eyebrow. "Don't you?"

"Er, yes," Teddy says. "Only I have Astronomy instead of History, as you probably guessed, seeing as I study magical cosmology."

"I got four Os," James says.

"You got six N.E.W.T.s with four Os," Teddy gasps. "And you went into Quidditch?!" Teddy knows how hard you have to work and how smart you have to be to get even one O, much less four.

"How many Os did you get?" James asks innocently.

"Lupin got three," Nettles says, "according to his file that's sitting here on my desk." He has a twinkle in his eyes that annoys Teddy. "Get out of my office and bicker about who is smarter in the corridor. I'll be in touch soon."

Teddy nods at Nettles and listens as James thanks him, laying on the flattery in a way that Teddy worries is too obvious—but Nettles seems tickled. He follows James into the corridor.

"Did you think I was stupid?" James asks, amused, once they're walking down the corridor.

"No! Of course not! I just—how the fuck do you have so many N.E.W.T.s? Usually people who get that many are going into some career that demands it, but more than that, they usually boast about it. Like that meme: 'How do you know if someone has more than five N.E.W.T.s? Don't worry, they'll tell you.'"

James laughs, and he seems delighted to have surprised Teddy. "Grandma wanted me to go do something _important_ , but honestly I just wanted to play Quidditch. For now, anyway. I figure I have plenty of time to do something serious later, right? I mean, wizards have like ten centuries' worth of good work in them, right? I can devote one to Quidditch."

Teddy stares at him, and a laugh bubbles up in his chest. He glances around the corridor, making sure they’re alone, then grabs James's arm and pulls him around, pressing his lips against James's and whispering, "You are the most ridiculous person I've ever met. I want to be more like you."

James grins and Teddy can feel the grin against his lips before James turns it into a kiss. Teddy stumbles backwards and James laughs, grabbing his waist and pushing him up against the wall. "Are you used to being the smartest person in the room, Lupin?"

Teddy snorts. "Er, maybe? I'm used to knowing the most about arcane topics, anyway. Unless I'm talking about potions, in which case Draco always knows more."

"You'd be surprised at how well I can match you," James teases, ducking his head into Teddy's neck and sucking at his collarbone.

Teddy's head thumps back against the wall. _Fuck._

"Which subjects did you get Os in?" James asks, sliding a hand under the hem of Teddy's shirt.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Teddy laughs, "can you drop it? I promise I don't think you're stupid."

"No, I need to know the subject at which I'm better than you. Quantifiably, objectively better than you."

Teddy snorts again and slides his fingers into James's hair. He makes a fist and pulls James back by the hair. James's surprised look when they meet eyes warms Teddy's insides. "I got Os in Charms, DADA, and Transfig."

"Ahhh," James says, nodding and sliding his fingers around under Teddy's waistband until his fingers rest on the curve of Teddy's arse underneath his pants. "So I'm smarter than you at Potions."

Teddy releases James's hair and pushes James away from him, dislodging James's hand from his trousers. "You got a fucking O in _Potions_?!"

James, the cheeky bugger, winks at him.

"Get the fuck out," Teddy says, laughing and holding his arm out, hand on James's chest, to keep him away. "No one gets an O on Potions!"

James hitches one shoulder up in a casual shrug. "I like potion-making. I kinda miss it."

Teddy can feel his mouth twitch into an incredulous smile. "You always get everything you want, don't you?"

James narrows his eyes. "Now you sound like Albus. I get things because I work hard."

"But you don't—you don't act like a person who works that hard."

"Because I'm not an arsehole? Or pretentious?" James asks, frowning.

“I just mean, you’re not a twat.”

James laughs. "Yeah, I hate people who act like their life is over because they're busy or doing work. Like, what's the point, then? If you can't also be enjoying life, why do it at all?"

Teddy leans forward and captures James's lips in a hard kiss. "You are," he kisses him again, "incredible."

"We'll figure this out," James says, grinning. "You see, we're very smart and motivated." James kisses him, sucking Teddy's bottom lip in his mouth and biting it. "And if it requires potion-making, don't worry. I've got your back."

Teddy laughs and pulls James in for another kiss, and lets himself believe it, at least for a little bit. Maybe it would do him good to be more like James.

***

"So James," Tonks says, carrying a bottle of wine into the sitting room, "tell us about yourself. Your dad is really Head Auror? Circe, that’s hard to believe." She slams her elbow into a wall, winces, and says, "Rem, will you grab the glasses?"

Remus disappears into the kitchen.

James turns around from where he's been inspecting the framed photos that sit on the bookshelf in front of row after row of books. "I'm a Chaser for Puddlemere. I'm twenty-two. I…I don't know what else I'm supposed to say other than that."

Tonks laughs and hands the wine bottle to Teddy. "Do you like playing professional Quidditch? Is it what you thought it'd be?"

"Yes?" James says. "I mean, I guess it's what I thought, physically, but more annoying like, politically."

Tonks nods. "Ugh, I hear you on that. I'm an Auror, you know, so I know all about workplace politics."

James smiles at her, then shakes his head. "This is weird. I've heard so much about you—from my dad's stories."

Remus walks in, four wine glasses floating behind him. One glass sails directly to each of them; Teddy casts a charm to pop the cork and splits the bottle between the four glasses.

Remus grabs his glass out of the air and raises it. "To visiting friends."

They clink around in all permutations; James turns with a wink to clink Teddy last. Teddy sticks out his tongue and James laughs before they take sips.

Teddy isn't sure how he's meant to feel. He's happy—he can feel excitement bubbling through him that James _wants him_ , that James _came,_ that they fucked and it was amazing and they can _do it again!_ —but he also feels like it will be torn away.

James turns back to the photos, seemingly enamoured with them. "Your grandmother looks so happy."

Teddy looks over his shoulder. Remus took the photo when Teddy became a Wizard Scout, his mum and grandmother standing behind him, all three of them looking proud.

"I liked your grandmother a lot," James murmurs so only Teddy can hear.

"She's pretty great," Teddy says. "How did she—? She's fine, here."

"She got sick, complications, I dunno," James says. "I guess there's a lot of randomness involved in these things."

"Yeah," Teddy says, pushing away the pain that tries to grip him—she's fine, she's here. He saw her a few days ago at his parents' house.

"Does she know—about—?" James asks.

Teddy wants to touch him. He wants to feel James's warmth against his body, to feel the relieved exhale of muscles leaning on the body of a loved one, but he's not sure he should. Teddy turns to take stock of his parents. They're staring at him, and Remus discreetly turns to the side, pretending not to watch, while Tonks makes a shooing motion towards James and mouths, "Go on!" Teddy smiles, rolls his eyes, and turns to James. He reaches an arm around his waist, rests some of his weight forward onto James's back, and sighs into his neck. "You smell like cinnamon," he whispers.

James turns, an amused smile on his face. "It's my deodorant," he whispers. "Does your grandmother know about the universe thing? About me?"

"No—I mean, not yet. The Unspeakables have to do special clearance on her and my Aunt Narcissa, Draco's mum."

"I suppose I could meet them someday, even if they don't get clearance, though," James says. "Because they don't know who I am, right? I can be anyone in this universe."

"Right," Teddy says, not allowing himself to think about whether he believes that. He tightens his arms around James's middle.

James grabs a photo off the top shelf. It's Teddy's dad and his school mates. James sucks in a breath, looking at his namesakes.

James pulls out of Teddy's grip and joins Teddy's parents on the sofa. "I've not seen this one before. Will you tell me about them?"

"About your grandfather?" Remus asks, his face contorted in that way it does when he talks about them.

"And Sirius," James says, smiling at the photo. "That's my name, you know. James Sirius."

Remus's glass halts on the way to his mouth. "Teddy told me that,” he whispers, a sad smile on his face. "Well, let's see. Your grandfather was—fun, smart, lively. A lot like you, from what I've seen so far. And Sirius was—" He stops.

Tonks lays a hand on Remus's leg. "It's hard," she apologises.

"No, no," Remus says, grabbing Tonks's hand. "It's okay. I—it's important to remember them, right? It's just hard to know where to start." He sighs. "They would've been so tickled that you two are—"

Teddy sits next to James and leans back, watching his dad with interest, wondering what word he’ll use.

"I guess teenage boys don't generally sit around wondering if their grandchildren will shag each other," James says, and he again diffuses the tension perfectly, drawing surprised laughs from Remus and Tonks.

"No, I don't think so," Remus says with a smile. "It's strange. Not the two of you. Honestly, that doesn't strike me as strange at all, which maybe is strange in itself. But the fact that the reason you exist is—or, seems to be—that we died."

Even James can't quite diffuse the awkwardness of that, and he smiles in empathy.

"Is Harry—" Tonks starts. "Are Harry and Teddy alright, in your universe? I haven't been able to stop thinking about it—about Teddy not having us, about Harry losing all the parents he ever had except Molly and Arthur."

"They're good," James says with conviction. "They're really good. Teddy is fantastic. He's loving and friendly and we grew up with him spending almost every weekend at my house, an older brother to the three Potters. My dad and mum treated him like one of us; I used to have a pull-out bunk in my room for him. He's an incredible journalist, writing interesting articles about the most random things, like breakthroughs in how magical people are dealing with plastic waste and the use of soil magic to save pollinators like bees. My dad is great—he has the life he always wanted, in love with my mum, successful at work, doing important things, playing with us, watching 80s films on weekends."

Tonks slumps into Remus's side, her face relieved but pained, and Remus reaches up to pull her purple-haired head against his face.

"Was there anything else you wanted to know?" James asks.

"No," Tonks says, "thank you."

"I think—" Remus shakes his head with a laugh, "I think there are some things that we're not meant to worry about, and the fates of us and our family in other universes has got to be one of them. It's odd. But I think we know enough to set our minds at ease."

"My dad came to stay with you after the war, here?" James asks, leaning against Teddy's thigh in a way that Teddy knows his parents can't see; not for show, for comfort.

Tonks sighs and swallows the last of her wine. "It was such a weird time. I know you are probably tired of hearing that—you too, Ted—but it was. Everyone was so relieved; you have to realise, we really all thought it was likely that Voldemort would win. But so many people died. My dad, Sirius, Fred Weasley, Alastor Moody." She stops and sucks in a breath. "Afterward, everyone was so tired. And grieving. But we had each other." She stops to look at Remus and smiles. "And we had Teddy. We were lucky, because Teddy was such a perfect distraction in those first months. Hard to dwell on existential questions about the future of magical politics when you've got a wee one who wants milk every twenty minutes."

Remus smiles, leaning his head back on the sofa. "Appointments with healers to make sure Teddy hadn't inherited lycanthropy; mindhealers to check us for PTSD, PPD, PPA, et cetera, and combinations thereof; Tonks having to go to last-minute raids to round up the last of the Death Eaters and me at home trying to keep you calm even though I didn't have any breasts and you would suck on my finger for a minute and then give me a look like, 'Seriously, Dad?' while all the while I was beside myself with worry that your mum wouldn't make it back from the raids; telling Harry to come stay with us because he shouldn't be alone, especially in Sirius's old house, and helping him to recover from the war physically—because he was so undernourished—and mentally—because he had been through so much."

"Not to mention," Tonks adds, "that the end of the war brought back the losses of both wars, so suddenly we were all feeling sad about people who'd been dead for years, on top of everything else."

Teddy's heard them talk about this stuff before, here and there, but never all at once like this. It makes him ache to think of them, his mum as young as he is now, dealing with all of that shit.

"Teddy _is_ a good distraction," James says with a smile, and turns to look at Teddy.

Teddy smiles and leans, his side pressing into James's back.

"It is hard for us to understand it," Teddy says, not knowing how else to respond to his parents. "I'm glad you were there for Harry."

"I wish you could've known them," Remus says. "James and Sirius."

Tonks slaps her hands on her knees and stands up. "You should show them a memory, Wolfie. I'll get us some snacks."

Remus watches her leave, then turns to them. "You can, if you want. See a memory, I mean. We have a Pensieve."

"Yes!" James says with a grin, and Teddy finds himself swept along in a tide of Jamesish enthusiasm and eagerness for new experiences, watching as his dad extracts a memory and directs it into a Pensieve that sits on the credenza. It's odd to see it filled with swirling silver liquid; it usually holds random sunglasses, knuts, and shrunken books that Remus has been carrying in his pockets.

"I'm going to go help your mother," Remus says, and pats Teddy on the back before leaving the room.

James grabs Teddy's hand and pulls him to his feet. "Let's go see my namesakes."

Teddy laughs, but he's hesitant. "Are you sure?"

James turns, puts his hands on his hips. "One thing you need to learn about me: don't ever ask me 'are you sure.' For one, the answer is always yes. Second, saying that will make me more likely to do the thing. Third, why wouldn't I be sure? It can't be weirder than casually popping into a different universe." He turns to inspect the Pensieve.

Teddy walks up behind him and leans down, pressing his chest against James's shoulders. "Alright then. Ready?"

James leans into the Pensieve, tugging Teddy with him, and they land, stumbling, in a sitting room with an orange shag carpet.

Remus, with a long fringe and youthful vigour despite still looking tired, sits on a sofa next to a stunningly good-looking man with long black hair—Sirius. Sirius is wearing a shirt with a graphic of a woman with big blonde hair that says "Dolly '72" and leaning to whisper in Remus's ear.

"Oh my god, look at them," James says and laughs, pulling Teddy to the side of the room.

Teddy's never seen his dad look so relaxed. He wants to use the word _carefree_ , but young Remus doesn't look carefree, even here. But closer to carefree, on the spectrum of carefree to troubled.

Sirius smiles against Remus's cheek and kisses him below the ear. Remus's face breaks into a slow smile, and he turns to meet Sirius's lips.

Sirius has a moustache. Well, a full face of stubble, but a much longer moustache. Which is definitely not something Teddy has ever seen in photos—it must have been short-lived. It's ridiculous, but also somehow not bad-looking. Not _not_ good. It actually is quite hot.

It's so strange—to see his dad kissing someone who isn't his mum. But it's also somehow not strange; it's right and good and life the way it should be.

"Oi!" a voice calls, and Teddy turns to see a younger, taller, more muscular version of Harry walking into the room. "Wizzjazz!"

Sirius pulls away from Remus and scowls at James. "Don't 'wizzjazz' us. You don't get to use your third-wheel safeword anymore. You're not a third wheel anymore—you're married."

"If anything," Remus agrees, "you're half of a second axle."

"Still makes me feel like we're not mates anymore," James says, flopping next to Remus. "I don't like feeling left out!"

"Lily!" Sirius calls. "Permission to snog Prongs? Only he's whinging about being left out!"

"Snog away!" a voice calls back.

Sirius leans over Remus, puckering his lips towards James. James laughs and lets Sirius smack him on the cheek.

"It's pretty bad logic, James," Remus says with a smile. "I mean, you don't see me and Sirius running to have a baby so we can avoid being left out."

Sirius pretends a gasp and says, "Rem, funny you should say that. I have something to tell you."

Remus turns and hits Sirius over the head with a pillow. Sirius dissolves into laughter.

"Lil, do you need help?" James calls.

"No!" she says and walks in carrying a tiny baby—just a few months old. He's nuzzled against her shoulder.

Teddy reaches to grab James's hand. "He's so cute," he whispers. James nods, mesmerised.

"Remus, can you grab the wine?" Lily asks and sits on an armchair. She's wearing a flannel shirt and high-waisted, wide-leg jeans. She's _so_ young.

"She looks a bit like Lily," James whispers to Teddy, "doesn't she?"

But Teddy hasn't met James's sister, so he says nothing.

Remus pours a measure of wine into four glasses. "Is Pete not coming?"

"He said he couldn't make it," James says, frowning. "But that's okay, Harry! We're here! We wouldn't miss baby's first Samhain!"

They raise their glasses and toast. "To a blessed Samhain," James says. "May Harry always remember those who came before him, and the darkness that balances the light."

"And the darkness that balances the light," Sirius echoes, and they all grin at baby Harry.

Lily holds him up, and he has a tiny bit of milk on his chin. He's wearing a little pair of pyjamas that make him look like a jack-o-lantern. "Happy Halloween, little pumpkin," Lily says, and kisses his head. The baby squeezes his eyes shut and he roots around against her cheek.

"He's hungry," James says.

Lily laughs. "He's always hungry! Well, everyone can drink up but me, then." She unbuttons the top of her shirt and puts the baby to her breast. Teddy glances at Remus and Sirius. Neither of them are at all fazed at the sudden appearance of their friend's tit, and Teddy smiles, warmed by their easy camaraderie.

"Prongs, put on The Game," Sirius says after they drink in silence for a minute.

"I cannot listen to Queen any more this week," James says with a sigh.

"Oh come on!" Sirius objects. He hops off the sofa and makes a dramatic gesture at Remus and sings, "It started off so well, They said we made a perfect pair! I clothed myself in your glory and your love. How I loved you—how I cried!"

Remus leans back on the sofa and laughs, radiating happiness and loving exasperation, and Teddy's eyes flit between the two, not wanting to miss a second.

"I love you till I die!" Sirius takes an exaggerated breath and belts, "Save me, save me, save me! I can't face this life alone. Save me, save me, save me!!!!!!"

"Stop singing now before you get to the line about being naked," Remus jokes, "before James calls wizzjazz again."

Sirius walks over to Lily. "Is he done eating? I want to hold my godson."

"I think so," Lily says, reaching her finger by Harry's mouth and looking at him. "Yeah."

Sirius leans down, picks Harry up, and bounces up and down, one hand at the back of the baby's neck and the other under his bottom. "Bum, bum, bum, another one bites the dust! And another one gone, another one gone, another one bites the dust! Bum, bum, bum."

The baby looks up at him and breaks into a gummy smile.

"Wooooo!" Sirius squeals, whirling around to face the sofa. "He smiled at me! Moony, did you see?"

"Ah!" James enthuses from the sofa, where he's slumped to the side and looks half asleep. "I told you he was starting to smile!"

Remus stands and joins Sirius, looking at Harry's face. "Look at you!"

"Bum, bum, bum," Sirius sings. "Another one bites the dust!" Harry smiles again, and Remus laughs, moving into a dancing position with Sirius, his arms about Sirius's waist, baby Harry between them.

"Don't become a Queen fan, Harry," James says, but he's grinning at his friends.

"Definitely become a Queen fan," Sirius commands, looking in the baby's eyes. Sirius looks at Lily. "Too early for Fat-Bottomed Girls?"

Lily laughs, the clear, happy sound of it echoing strangely around the memory, and then it's over.

Teddy lands on the floor of his parents' sitting room, clutching James's hand.

"Whoa," James whispers.

"Yeah," Teddy says, feeling oddly like he's going to cry. They were so—fun, alive, vibrant. He aches for his dad for losing his people. He aches for Harry for losing them, and for James's Harry for losing even Remus. Lily and James should've had the chance to dote on their grandson James that way. But Teddy wouldn't be alive if Sirius hadn't died, so the entire thing is a complete mindfuck.

"They were—" James stops. "Fuck, I love them."

Teddy smiles at him, still feeling sad, and Remus and Tonks come back into the room.

Remus looks apprehensive, like he's not sure he should've shared the memory. "Alright?"

James walks over and wraps Remus in a hug. "I know we just met, but we're obviously family and I just—thank you."

Remus smiles at Teddy, a bit bewildered, over James's shoulder, patting James on the back. "James and Lily were wonderful. I wish you could've known them. Though I'll be honest; it's hard for me to imagine them as grandparents of a grown man."

James laughs and pulls away. "That's okay, I have a hard enough time remembering I'm supposed to be grown."

Seeing the memory seems to have made James feel right at home, but it's left Teddy feeling—sad. They all _died._ It's—sad. He feels like James—this James—is an apparition, about to be torn away from him as easily as the memory-visions of James’s grandparents and Sirius.

Tonks is holding a large wooden bowl filled with prawn cocktail crisps. "Are we sad now? Because I can take out the home video of Teddy tap-dancing in the Godric's Nursery performance of Babbity Rabbity, if we need a pick-me-up."

"Mum!" Teddy laughs. "No!"

James, eyes alight, reaches up to cover Teddy's mouth with a hand. "Yes. That's a big yes. Yes."

Tonks winks at James and walks to the cabinet, opening a drawer straight into her knee as she tries to find the film.

"Get the one where he morphed himself wings for their performance of Pegasus, too," Remus adds, sitting on the sofa.

"Dad!"

***

They go back to Teddy's through the Floo laden with homemade cookies and leftovers under a Preservation Charm. Teddy, not wanting to be alone, had been staying with his parents since he returned from the otherworld, until James arrived; he's just glad that no one has made any snarky comments about him going back to his flat because his universe-travelling boyfriend (boyfriend?) has shown up.

Teddy sighs and Levitates the leftovers into the kitchen; he's clumsy with his charm work and hears it knock into the wall. He sighs and turns, looking around the room, wondering what he's supposed to do next.

He feels hands on his shoulders and turns to look at James, a smile spreading on his face as he takes in James's smile and red-stained lips. "Your lips got all wine stained," Teddy says, touching a finger to James's bottom lip.

James opens his mouth wider and sucks Teddy's finger into his mouth.

"You don't know where that's been," Teddy says, going for a joke but then realising only once the words are out that it sounds like he's casting aspersions on the proclivities of his own finger.

James raises an eyebrow as he sucks his mouth off the finger. "Oh really?" James reaches behind his neck, grabs his shirt, and tugs it off over his head.

"What are you doing?" Teddy can't tell if he read the situation wrong, but he'd thought James was teasing, not trying to have sex.

"You can't have forgotten that I hate shirts," James says. "I've been wearing it _all day._ "

It reminds Teddy of seeing James in the other universe—in James’s universe where he spends as much time as possible shirtless; James’s universe, which he has to go back to, away from Teddy. Teddy tries to laugh, but it comes out sounding strained.

"What's wrong?" James asks, looking at Teddy with concern.

"Nothing," he says, flopping onto the sofa.

"Bullshit," James says, a crease between his eyebrows as he sits perpendicular on the sofa, his back against the armrest.

"I'm just—I can't stop thinking that you have to leave." That's the crux, isn't it?

"Well I don't have to go yet." James grins, but it falters when Teddy doesn't smile back.

"I want to be optimistic," Teddy says. "But today we were told that if we continue to see each other, it might cause a black hole. Like, I'm trying to be optimistic, but I don't know how you're doing it."

James shrugs. "Because that's what people do when they're—when they are with someone. You have to just trust it'll work, right? That if you put the work in, you can find a way."

Teddy looks at his lap. "But it's not that easy. People _say_ 'love will find a way,' but it's pretty much bullshit. Look at my dad and Sirius! Look at your grandparents!"

"Is that what you took from that memory?" James asks, his mouth twisting in disapproval. "That love is doomed?"

"No, I mean, not necessarily! But we can't pretend like it's easy, either."

"No one said 'easy,' Teddy," James says, annoyed. "I'm not afraid of hard work. You must realise that by now. And honestly, if you don't, fuck you."

"No, I know you're not!" Teddy says, and that's true. "It's just—what if hard work isn't enough?"

"You think I don't know there's luck involved?" James asks, and his voice is calm but he raises an eyebrow. "How could I not know that? I spent my entire time at Hogwarts thinking about the fact that, for some reason, I _didn't_ have a prophecy written about me. But you can't just throw your hands up! You have to just do what you can!"

"I know," Teddy says. "I want to! But like, what are we going to do? I don't want to lose you."

"Are you asking me to stay?" James asks. His voice is quiet and his eyes are hard to read, but seem at least partially hopeful.

"I mean, yes, but no! I can't ask you to do that, Jamie. You can't sacrifice your family, just like I can't sacrifice my family."

"Don't pretend like you're the one who gets to define what 'sacrifice' is here," James says. "What if I _want_ to stay here?"

"James!" Teddy is exasperated. For the first time since he's met James, he feels the six years he has on him. "How would that even work?! What are you going to do, quit your job you love and tell your parents, 'Mum, Dad, I met a boy. He lives in a different universe, so I'm just going to pop out of existence'?"

James braces himself on his arms and sits up straight, his face furious for the first time Teddy can remember. "Don't you dare make fun of me. You don't get to talk down at me for wanting to make this work."

Teddy’s stomach drops. "I wasn't trying to do that. I'm sorry." He takes a breath. "I don't want you to give up that stuff. I'd feel terrible about it and I'd feel like you would eventually regret it, or resent me."

"Relationships always fucking involve sacrifices," James says. "That's just life, Teddy."

James’s eyes burn with a stubborn fire that calls to mind Harry's will and Ginny's ferocity. He's—he's everything Teddy has always wanted, even if Teddy wouldn't have been able to put it into words. Teddy exhales, leans towards him, and threads their fingers together. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "It's a lot. It feels like we have to make an all-or-nothing decision, you know? Most people don't have to do that with new relationships. They get to like, go on dates, realise if the person is an arsehole who won't share naan."

James squeezes Teddy's hand. "You're right. But also, I'm not changing my mind any time soon. Are you?"

Teddy shakes his head; James can have all his naan. He feels oddly sure about it. He feels like he shouldn't be sure, like he should need time to do things the right way, like he should take a few years to make anything that seems like a semi-permanent relationship decision. But he really…doesn't. He can't imagine walking away from James. "You're right. The problem is that you have to leave, not that I'm not sure."

James smiles and leans into Teddy's space. "Just because I have to leave doesn’t mean we won’t see each other again soon. You need to stop worrying, or I'll think you aren't into me."

Teddy smiles. "I may be uncertain about some things, but I'm certain about that."

"Oh yeah?" James asks, pressing his lips to Teddy's cheek.

Fuck, James feels so good. He makes Teddy's brain clear and his muscles relax, and maybe James is right—maybe Teddy needs to surrender to some imprudent "love conquers all" narrative, because James feels—James feels—like hot breath on Teddy's neck, the slide of lips and a cold hand sliding under his shirt—

The Floo whooshes. James pulls back and they watch Harry step over the hearth.

James turns to Teddy and whispers so Harry can't hear, "I can't believe my dad is managing to cockblock me even across universes."

Teddy laughs, bumping his head back on the sofa. "Hey Harry."

"Sorry," Harry says with a grimace. "Was I interrupting?"

"Nah, we were just talking."

Harry looks like he doesn't buy that, gesturing at James’s bare torso.

“Oh,” Teddy says, “he’s opposed to shirts. Just generally.”

Harry’s face takes on a bemused smile. “Alright.” He holds up a bag. "Draco had to work late, but he wanted me to bring you these notes on how potions relate to inter-universal travel. He thought you might need them, in talking with Nettles."

"Oh, thanks," Teddy says and stands to give Harry a hug and take the bag. "Let me put on the kettle."

"Are you sure?" Harry asks. "I don't have to stay."

"No, no. Tea," Teddy says. "Tea is good." He heads for the kitchen, smiling to himself as he watches Harry sit in the armchair.

He can hear them talk as he starts the kettle and pulls the cups and tea from the cupboard.

"Were you two at the Ministry today?" Harry asks.

"Yeah," James says. "Nettles is working on a plan. There are some details that need clearing up."

"Oh, good," Harry says.

Teddy listens, but no one speaks, and he worries this is too awkward—to leave James with his not-dad and Harry with his not-son—and he calls, "Then we went to Mum and Dad's and they showed James the video of my Pegasus performance."

Harry laughs delightedly and Teddy smiles as he measures tea. It is embarrassing, but he's glad that his nine-year-old self can still bring everyone joy.

"Teddy was cute with wings," James says in an affectedly smarmy voice.

And then Harry says, "That reminds me! Ted, did you finish that VoF book we lent you? Draco wanted to re-read it because the next in the series comes out next week."

"What's VoF?" James asks.

"Veela of Fire," Harry explains.

Teddy finishes pouring the water and carries the tray into the sitting room. "Yeah, let me just grab it. It was good! That scene with the potion to void the mating bond?!" He sets the tray on the table.

"Right?!" Harry enthuses. "And when the Healer administering it got punched by the friend?"

"And Vachel doesn't want anything to do with the mate magic unless it's chosen?"

"Fuck me up, that was good," Harry says with a happy sigh.

"Wait a minute," James says, looking between them. "Do you—you two and Mr Malfoy—share _erotica_?"

Harry titters. "Er. Yes?"

"It's really good, though," Teddy says, grinning.

"Honestly, I've never spent so much time contemplating the notion of free will as with this series," Harry says.

"And Eldred refuses to touch him even though it's giving him excruciating pain?!" Teddy says.

"And then he keeps punching Vachel because he's in terrible pain and refuses to give in to the bond but needs to touch him!?"

"What," James breathes, "the fuck."

Teddy laughs, taking a sip of tea. "You need to read it; it's so good." He turns to Harry. "What did Draco not like about the sex scenes this time?"

Harry scrunches his nose. "He took issue with the description of Vachel's scrotum, I think."

"I can't say I recall that, er, description," Teddy says, wincing.

"It was, apparently, unwrinkled. It didn't use any descriptors for come, though, so at least I was spared a rant about that," Harry says. Then, in a posh accent, he says, "Have these people ever _seen_ semen, Harry?"

Teddy laughs, throwing his head back, but then he realises James is staring at them in horror. "Er, sorry James," Teddy says quickly, throwing an urgent look at Harry.

"Oh fuck," Harry says with a grimace. He puts a hand up over his face. "I'm not your dad, I promise."

James's face looks pale and he lets out a strained laugh.

Teddy feels for him—remembering how strange it was, for him to be in James's universe—and realises he needs to change the subject. "Anyway! So Nettles is worried that we might cause a black hole."

" _What?_ " Harry cries, holding his cup of tea with both hands. "That can't be true, can it?"

"There's a worry that continued interaction between two distinct universes will cause a logarithmic entropy increase," Teddy sighs. "I think it's bullshit, personally, but—" He stops. James looks uncomfortable. "Are you okay?"

James shakes his head like he's trying to wake himself up. "I feel—"

"What can I do?" Harry asks, leaning forward. "Do you want a potion?"

James’s head snaps to Harry; he’s shocked, tears in his eyes. What the—

James stands. “I can’t—” His hands are shaking, his face drained of blood.

Teddy jumps up, knocking his teacup to the floor as he takes two long steps towards James. “What happened?”

James brings a shaking hand to brush his hair off his face, and Teddy sees sweat beading his forehead. James glances at Harry, then back to Teddy, and says, "I—I can't do this. I have to get out of here and—I have to go home. We can talk later, but please don’t follow me.” He starts for the Floo.

"What?" Teddy cries. "No!"

"I have to go," James says, a tear falling down his freckled cheek. He grabs a handful of Floo powder and throws it in the flames.

"Wait!" Teddy shouts. "James!" He rushes forward, ready to grab James and prevent him going through, back to Level Nine where he will cross the veil to the otherworld.

But as he reaches the hearth, Harry grabs Teddy around the chest, holding him back.

"I need to get him back," Teddy blurts.

"Give him some space, Ted," Harry says, squeezing him. "We'll get him, but we can’t go now when he asked you not to.”

Teddy turns; Harry's confused, looking around the room as if it might have a clue to why James bolted.

"What happened?! What did I do?!" Teddy cries.

"I don’t know," Harry says, running a hand through his hair. "What happened before I got here?"

"I dunno, we argued a little about how optimistic versus realistic we should be. But like, we apologised. Or, er, I apologised. It seemed like things were okay."

"You don't think,” Harry speculates, “we spooked him with our erotica…?"

Teddy winces. "I mean—but how is that possible? The first time I met him, he used a butternut squash as a prop cock."

Harry's face contorts into a mixture of grimace and fear.

"I didn't mean like, he _used_ it as a cock!" Teddy croaks. "He held it up in front of him like one, that’s all!"

“Fuck,” Harry says, putting a hand on his hip. "Let's owl Draco?"

Teddy lets Harry steer him to the sofa. When Harry runs to the Floo, Teddy sees James’s shirt on the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

Teddy wakes up with a stiff neck. He's on the sofa. Why is he on the sofa? He sees James across the room and sits up, blinking, only to realise that it's not James—it's Harry, with sunlight shining on his hair, whispering to Draco. James. James left last night.

"Harry, stop meddling," Draco assures, but his face has a manic tint. "It's just a little blood magic; it's really not a big deal."

"I'm not saying _no_ ," Harry clarifies. "I'm just saying it has to be a last resort. Especially because I'm apparently the Head Auror in the other universe and it would possibly really be a problem if the Head Auror's son were discovered to be under the influence of blood magic performed by wizards from another fucking universe."

"Whaddaya talkin' 'bout?" Teddy mumbles through a yawn.

"Nothing!" Draco says, clapping his hands. "You're awake. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes," Teddy says, stretching his neck until it cracks. "I feel like death."

"It was like a Hufflepuff slumber party in here last night," Draco says. "Well, plus quite a lot of whiskey. Is that very Hufflepuffish?"

"Yes," Teddy says at the same time he hears his mum call from the kitchen, "Yes!"

"Well then, yes, it was like a Hufflepuff slumber party in here last night, so we all feel like death," Draco says, walking into the kitchen. "At least you're eighteen years younger and therefore less fragile on mornings after."

"Don't even listen to him," Harry says. "He's already had Hangover Potion. Do you need some?"

"No," Teddy says. "Maybe." He can't tell if his headache can be blamed on whiskey. He can barely remember. "Did I cry last night?"

Harry presses his lips together sympathetically. "Oh, Ted. Yes. If it makes you feel better, I think we all cried."

"Fuck," Teddy says, his sigh breaking into a laugh. "Is Mum quoting Mister Rogers yet?"

"Oh, for hours now," Harry says, and grins.

"'There's no normal life that is free of pain' or 'There's no _should_ or _should not_ when it comes to having feelings'?"

"Both!" Harry laughs, and Draco returns with a mug of tea for Teddy.

"Thanks," Teddy says as Draco reclaims his seat.

"So now we've been through the first two stages," Harry says. "Crying and whiskey. Now it's time for the third stage: action."

"But—" Teddy says.

"No!" Draco says. "No objections! And wait til your parents get in here; they're making bacon butties."

Remus walks in carrying a large tray of sandwiches, and the group settles around the sitting room, Tonks on the floor, Remus on the hearth, Harry and Draco in the armchairs by the window. Teddy wishes someone would sit next to him on the sofa, because having them all facing him makes it feel like an inquisition.

"So," Tonks begins, her mouth full of sandwich. "James left. And it seemed like he got spooked by something?"

"Yes," Harry confirms, and Teddy gets the feeling that they'd be quite happy to do this without him here. "But it wasn't anything obvious. Teddy and I were discussing _Veela of Fire_ and—"

"Wait," Remus says, and he has that look on his face that he gets sometimes, the one that clearly says he feels like the only adult in the room. "You, Teddy, in an undefined-yet-undeniable relationship with James, were talking to Harry, the man who, in another universe became James's father, about a series of _veela erotica_?"

"We always talk about VoF!" Harry says. 

Tonks cackles. "You didn't think it might fuck up a twenty-two-year-old universe traveller to hear his boyfriend casually chatting with his father about veela smut?"

"We didn't discuss the smut!" Teddy claims.

"Well," Harry says, dragging out the vowel in a way that makes him sound like Draco, "we did discuss the unwrinkled scrota."

Draco throws a hand into the air. "I cannot leave the two of you alone for five minutes, can I? It's like the Easy Bake Oven incident of 2005."

"That brownie was delicious and you know it," Harry mumbles.

"But it didn't even seem like that's what made him upset," Teddy says, trying to remember. "It was like, he was a little uncomfortable then, laughing and stuff, but it was after that. I changed the subject, to make him more comfortable."

"What did you bring up?" Remus asks, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"I dunno, I just told Harry about our meeting with Nettles, I think."

"But you said you had argued with him before I got there," Harry points out.

"Yeah, that's why last night you kept saying it was your fault," Tonks says. "Tell us, so we can figure it out."

Teddy sighs. "Um, I was feeling worried about figuring out a plan to keep seeing him, and I think he felt like—like I wasn't trying enough? Or I didn't believe in us? Oh for fuck's sake, I sound so wet."

"Pure H2O," Harry puts in with an irreverent smirk, and Draco elbows him.

"What was James saying?" Tonks asks.

"He was kinda like, 'Do you want me to stay?' and I was like, 'I could never ask you to do that,' and he was like 'Love will find a way,' and I was like, 'Well like, not really. Look at my dad and Sirius and your grandparents'."

The four of them stare at him.

"What?"

They all sort of look around at each other, and finally Draco says, "I'll do it." He sets down his butty, wipes his hands on his napkin, then looks at Teddy. "Imagine if you will, a handsome young prince who falls in love, but his beloved lives in a faraway land."

Teddy rolls his eyes, but leans forward on his elbows, listening. He's listened to Draco telling stories for as long as he can remember.

"The prince decides to go visit his beloved, at what we can only assume is great personal cost and hardship. He arrives and is reunited with his beloved, and is filled with hope for their future together."

Teddy swallows his bite of bacon and sets his plate down.

"But his beloved," Draco continues, really getting into the dramatics now, "keeps talking about things that would keep them apart, like the evil King Nettles."

"Why does Nettles get to be king," Harry asks, and Draco shushes him.

"Our prince is worried that his beloved doesn't really want to be together!" Draco says. "He tells him that love conquers all! And his beloved says…" Draco pauses, leans forward. "My dad's old lover died once."

Teddy buries his head in his hands, but he can still hear.

"The beloved doesn't believe in happily ever after!" Draco cries. "Whatever shall the prince do!"

"Alright Draco," Remus says. "Teddy."

Teddy looks up, but he doesn't take his chin out of his hands. "I didn't mean it like that, I _swear_. I was just trying to figure out _how_ we could make it work. I wanted to like, be realistic about the amount of work that has to go into making relationships work. Love isn’t inevitable. It will work if we work to figure it out, you know?"

Tonks nods. "Of course. But can you imagine how it might have seemed to him?"

"Especially if he has a different personality than you do?" Remus adds.

"Fuck," Teddy whispers. "I've really cocked it."

"It reminds me of Vachel in Book 4," Harry says.

But Tonks cuts him off. "Can we not discuss _Veela of Fire_ when that was literally one of the things that caused this debacle?"

"Fine!" Harry says, but then he cups a hand around his mouth and whispers, "It's like when Vachel gets the cursed ring."

"Fuck!" Teddy cries. "It is like the ring, isn't it?!" He sighs when Draco nods in agreement. "James looked so freaked out, though."

"Yeah, he really did," Harry says. "Did anything like that happen to you when you were in the other universe?"

Teddy thinks back, remembers having to go outside, his ears ringing, to get away from Draco and the others. "Yeah, similar to how I reacted to something the other Draco said, I suppose."

Harry scowls at Draco and Draco holds his hands up. "I didn't say anything!"

"Mr Malfoy was over for dinner at the Potters' house," Teddy says, "er, with his son. Because his son is friends with Harry's son. And it was strange for me because I was watching Harry and Mr Malfoy interact and it was all wrong, you know? Like, it wasn't Harry and Draco. And then when Mr Malfoy was leaving he was like, 'Goodbye,' all formal, and without thinking I said, 'Gotta go, Grindylow,' and he was like, 'See you soon.'"

"Oh, Teddy," his mum says, her eyes filled with empathy. 

"What'd you do?" Remus asks.

"I ran out of the house into the back yard. I was—I was crying and my ears were ringing. It was like the wrongness of the universe came crashing down on me. Oh, shit. That must be what happened to James."

"Certainly sounds like it," Draco says.

"Is there any mention of this in the literature?" Remus asks. "It could be a symptom of universal displacement."

"There is no literature," Teddy laments. "This is all new to us."

"Well this must’ve been what happened to James!” Tonks declares with the surety of a mother who can’t imagine that anyone wouldn’t desire her son. “What do you think causes this type of reaction, exactly?" 

"With me it was like the universal incongruity acted like a trigger," Teddy says. "That's my best guess. We'd need some more data to really know. I guess I'll talk to Nettles about it."

"Well fuck that!" Harry says. "You can do that later. Now you need to go after James and explain what happened."

"And convince him you're not an arsehole who doesn't believe in happy endings," Draco adds.

"And convince Nettles that he needs to find a way to make this possible," Tonks adds.

"One thing at a time!" Remus insists. "Get James first, then worry about Nettles."

"Everyone listen to me for a moment," Draco says, setting down his napkin and leaning forward. "And I want you to really listen with an open mind; don't just have a knee-jerk reaction." He waits, making eye contact with each of them in turn. "There is a spell. When implemented correctly, it acts as a bond between two people, and it has no effect except preventing separation. If the parties _want_ to separate—"

"Draco, is this blood magic?" Tonks snaps.

"Nettles would not be able to take no for an answer," Draco says, crossing his legs. "Give me an alternative that has such efficacy."

"I really don't think blood magic is the answer," Teddy ventures.

"We'll put that cauldron on the back burner, husband of mine," Harry says and shoots Tonks an amused look.

Teddy sighs and rests his chin in his hands again, thinking morosely that his posture echoes his mood. "But how are James and I going to make it work? I'm not going to like, leave all of you."

"Oh, stop," Tonks says. "Whatever. We can all move over there, if need be."

Remus laughs. "You don't need to figure it all out now."

"But how can I do this if I can't see how it will work?" Teddy asks. "Put myself and James through it—for what?"

"Oh, Teddy," Harry says. "You're scared! I mean, it's understandable. But you're just scared. New things are scary."

"I'm not _scared_ ," Teddy scoffs.

"Oh, you are," Draco says. "But even if it doesn’t work out long-term, why are you acting like it would be such a bad experience? You just asked if you could 'put yourself through it.' What rot is that? Put yourself through what, exactly? A loving relationship where you get a partner and sex for awhile, if not forever?"

Teddy doesn't have an answer for that.

"Do you think I would've ever got with Draco in the beginning if I thought it had to work forever?" Harry asks.

"Well fuck you very much," Draco says, posh tone and faux offence dragging a snort from Tonks.

"I'm serious! Draco was a fucking Death Eater! We tried to kill each other for years! His father tried to kill me for years, and by the end I was trying pretty hard to kill him back! The Weasleys had a feud with the Malfoys going back like, centuries, and Remus and Tonks were my other family and they were estranged from the Blacks, too! And Draco was a prat to me all through school."

Draco sits tall, raises a hand in front of him, palm up, and gestures back and forth between himself and Harry with an outraged look on his face, as if inviting the group to join him in disbelief about his poor treatment.

"But I had fun when I was with Draco," Harry says, hitching a shoulder up in a careless shrug and turning to smile at Draco. "He made me laugh and we understood each other. I think—it was one day at a time, at first, you know? I think every relationship is. I kept wanting to see him, so I kept seeing him. We solved our problems as they came along."

"With the exception of my father," Draco says, pointing a finger at Harry. "We never solved him."

"You're right," Harry sighs. "That's another good point—not every issue in a relationship has to be solved. Some can just be…"

"…Tolerated," Draco finishes. 

"It's true," Remus agrees. "I wasn't looking for a relationship when your mum and I got together. Had I thought it had to be a long-term thing...I would've run the other way."

"You tried to anyway," Tonks says, laughing. "But we had too much fun together for me to give up so easily. Eventually…we decided it was fine to be in a relationship that always has the spectre of another person in it. What does it matter how that might look to an outsider? It doesn't matter to us. And we figured that out eventually, not at the very beginning."

"It's not that forever with James scares me, though," Teddy confides. "Forever with James doesn't scare me at all. What scares me is wanting forever and not being allowed to have it. Because of the fucking cosmology of the multiverse."

"No one is guaranteed forever," Remus says, standing from where he's perched on the hearth. He walks to the sofa and reaches a hand out for Teddy's, then pulls his son up to a stand and wraps him in a hug. "Don't let fear of losing someone keep you away from them," he whispers, soft enough that no one else can hear. "If I had to go back in time, the only thing I'd do differently is go harder, be less hesitant. Even if it would make it hurt more, later."

Teddy squeezes, the scratchy wool of his dad's jumper prickling his neck. He breathes in his dad's smell, enjoys the comforting arms of a person who has eased his pain so many times over the years. Remus's skin on Teddy’s cheek isn't as taut as it once was, but it's softer, somehow, like a lifetime of Teddy's hugs have worn him down, broken him in. "Thanks, Dad," Teddy whispers.

"So get out of here, then!" Tonks shouts from her place on the floor. "Before Draco starts performing blood magic on you without your consent."

Teddy snorts and pulls away from his dad. "Okay," he declares. He’s going to be more like James. The thought of James's eagerness and surety gives him a hard, motivating drive he doesn't usually feel. "Okay. I'm going."

"Tell us your plan so we don't worry this time," Harry says.

"I go to Level Nine and hopefully get through the veil without Nettles realising, but if I need to convince him I convince him. I get to the other universe. I find James."

"Change your appearance," his mum says. "After you get there. There's a remote possibility the other Teddy could be there; you don't want to cause problems. If you see the other Potters, you can just pretend to be a stranger. Selling the _Prophet_ or something."

Teddy laughs, his heart speeding up. "Okay."

"No, you should say you're selling magical oils," Draco despairs. "Or leggings. That's what everyone's always trying to sell these days."

"When you change your appearance," his mum says, "don't change your hair length."

Harry scrutinises. "Or your body."

"Change your hair colour," Draco says, "and put on glasses?"

"He has to change more than that," Remus says. "They've known him since he was born! Maybe nose and height and eye colour?"

"Well go on then," Tonks insists, hands on hips. "Test it out so we can workshop it, if need be. You still need for him to be attracted to you."

"Can't I just morph back to myself once I find him?" Teddy asks.

"First impressions are important," Draco says. "Don't you want him to think you're a snack right from the beginning? Is that still what the kids say?"

"For the love of Merlin," Teddy whispers, but he lets them get on with it.

***

Teddy doesn't vomit this time when he lands in James's universe. He lands on the cold floor of the veil manipulation chamber and jumps to his feet, pushing down the nausea. It's not that different than that time James made him go running.

The veil manipulation tech—a woman named Willow whom he's just recently come to know—jumps clear out of her seat when she sees him. Teddy, of course, has just seen her counterpart in his universe, and grins at her. "Hey, Willow. Alright?"

"You and Potter need to stop doing that," she says, clutching her chest. "You're going to send me to an early grave."

"Would that be easier than usual because you work with the veil?" Teddy asks.

She smiles. "Just don't go messing around with my equipment and we'll be okay." She looks at a series of magical notations that looks like it's been scrawled in the air above her desk. "Were we expecting you? Because I don't have anything here—should I get Mr Nettles?"

"Nah," Teddy says, aiming for casual. "I'll just pop round there now." He tries to think of a way to ask her to leave his arrival off all official reports and not to mention it to anyone, but there's really no way to do that without arousing suspicion and leading to her telling Nettles immediately with urgency, rather than later incidentally. He smiles, trying to force his face into a semblance of normality, but he's so nervous, so worried, so full of apprehension and excitement about seeing James.

She waves and he bolts out the door, slamming into the doorframe and reaching up to grab his sore bicep. He makes his way into the corridor and leans against the wall, trying not to think about how, in this corridor in another universe, James pushed him up against it and snogged him.

Okay. What does he need to do now? First, morph his appearance. He looks left and right; no one's here. He closes his eyes and visualises the appearance that his parents and Harry and Draco bickered about but eventually settled on when he told them he was leaving without their input if they couldn't agree. He feels the familiar tingling that is his body rearranging its cells, a compression as he gets a couple inches shorter. He sneezes when he makes his nose larger. He makes his eyes green like Harry's and turns his hair dark brown. He puts on a pair of glasses, then grabs his wand and casts a Hemming Charm at his trousers. That done, he takes off down the corridor, hoping not to attract attention. He wishes that Disillusionment or Notice-Me-Not Charms were allowed on Level Nine; but honestly, it's really for the best that they're not. 

He walks calmly, but with purpose—the stride that made sure no one ever stopped him when he wandered the corridors at Hogwarts. (It had also helped that he was a professor's kid.) He's not got the hang of this body yet, though, and he's even clumsier than usual, tripping on his foot because it doesn't hit the floor when his brain expects it to. When he looks up he realises he's in Life and Death, near Bev's desk, and on a whim he turns right and heads in to find them.

Bev is at their desk eating a KitKat Chunky, surrounded by a circle of floating, glowing orbs. The orbs are making an odd chirruping noise, and Teddy doesn't have the foggiest what they might be.

"Hey Bev," he says. "Is that a Peanut Butter Chunky?"

Bev looks up, crunches. "Who are you?"

"Oh, it's me, Teddy Lupin. Sorry."

They narrow their eyes. "Metamorphmagus. I forgot. Identity conf?"

Teddy nods, pulls out his wand, and casts a sample of his magical signature onto a spare scrap of parchment on Bev's desk. After a moment, the magic coalesces to read "Edward Remus Lupin."

Bev nods. "You here to see Nettles?"

"No, I—" Teddy pauses. "I'm here to see James. Have you seen him? He should've come back through late yesterday afternoon."

"No," Bev says, waving their wand to bring the orbs out of the air. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I—"

"Bullshit, _nothing,_ " Bev says. "He was in here nonstop trying to get over there to see you, and he was angry, but in that way that you know will end in fucking. You know? I helped him come up with a plan. He showed me how to do a Sloth Grip Roll. He’s supposed to be in your universe until tonight or tomorrow morning or something. And you're telling me nothing happened?"

"I appreciate your help," Teddy says, scrubbing a hand over his face and jumping slightly at the feel of the wrong face. "But I really don't want to talk about it right now, okay? I'm trying to keep my determination from flagging under the weight of pragmatic concerns."

"Wait," Bev says.

"I really have to go," Teddy says, turning to leave. He can't deal with other people right now—he needs to see James.

"Teddy!" Bev calls, but Teddy is down the corridor, out of Level Nine, and walking quickly across the Atrium to the Apparition Point. He rubs his thumb against his forefinger while he waits in the queue, wondering if James will be at his parents' house. It's the first place to check, anyway. When it's his turn, he takes a breath, turns, feels the compression of Apparition, and lands on a dirt path, kicking up a cloud of dust as he stumbles forward. He reminds himself again that his legs are shorter than they should be. 

Teddy looks around—this is where he and James ran that day. Or rather, where James ran and he stumbled forward gracelessly in fits and starts whilst clutching at stitches in his sides.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks in the direction of the Potters' house. It's funny; he hadn't spent all that much time here—about three weeks—but the sense memory is strong: the way the light shines on the path, the way the air smells. It's cold, but not that much colder than when he was here last. The day is grey, the sun fighting against its angle in the sky and December's insistence on being measurably worse than the imagination expects it to be.

The Potters' house comes into view as he rounds a bend; a plume of magical smoke rises from the chimney, faintly green-tinted and sparkly as it Vanishes from the air. Teddy walks faster, reminds himself as he approaches that he doesn't look like Teddy and has been told by Draco to pretend he's hawking leggings. The house has wreaths in the windows, each with red and gold ribbon. Teddy smiles and walks up the front path, crunching on the gravel, and knocks on the door.

There's a shout inside, and the door swings open to reveal Albus. He's wearing a red and black tartan hoodie, which is ridiculous, and Teddy smiles, unexpectedly happy to see him again.

Leggings salesman, he reminds himself. "Hello. Is James Potter here?"

"Nah mate, he's out. Can I help you?"

"Are your parents here?"

Albus raises an amused brow and leans against the door frame. "Who are you? Next are you going to ask me to come into your Floo for some candy?"

Teddy realises that Albus must be worried about how this stranger got to the front door; surely Harry and Ginny have strong wards protecting their house from randos. Teddy doesn't see a sign of anyone else at home. He closes his eyes and lets his body morph back to its default appearance, wondering what colour his hair decided to land on.

"Teddy! What the fuck—"

"Can I come in? Are your parents home?"

"Nah, it's just me and Scorpius. Come on in."

Teddy follows Albus into the kitchen, where they've got books and parchment scattered all over the table, along with half-empty mugs of tea and bottles of beer.

"A bit of revision?" Teddy asks.

Scorpius looks up, unseeing, and murmurs, "Behavioural signs of oestrus in hippogriffs: restlessness, standing to be mounted, red swollen vulva…"

Teddy, bewildered, turns to Albus.

"Just give him a minute and his brain will catch up," Albus whispers.

"…Increased high-pitch whistling. Teddy!" Scorpius says, hopping up. "What're you doing here?!"

"And why were you dressed up like a weird version of Robert Downey Jr?" Albus asks, grabbing a beer from the fridge and throwing it at Teddy.

Teddy catches it, which is a miracle—Albus is used to living in a house of Quidditch players—and fuck, Teddy has missed them. He realises with sudden clarity that even if he'd never fallen for James, he would still want to come back.

It's not just James (even if, he thinks, it's _mostly_ James)—it's an entire family, an entire world. It's a brother in Albus and a not-brother-in-law in Scorpius; it's fellow Doctor Who fanatics; it's a sister named Lily who likes dragons dressed in drag, whom he loves without ever having met; it's an aunt in Ginny and an awkward as fuck not-in-law in Mr Malfoy; it's Harry as a dad figure who’s somehow totally different from the Harry he has always known. Teddy wants all of them.

Humans are greedy. Expand the bounds of the universe and suddenly we must have it all. Teddy knows he can never travel to any other universe; these two are quite enough to cope with. He wonders if they should add that to their new inter-universal travel procedures: _No operative can have sustained interaction with more than two universes._ Or something.

Teddy smiles, steps forward, and wraps Albus in a hug. He smells a bit like dirty laundry, which makes Teddy laugh with joy, because isn't that exactly what brothers are supposed to be like?

"What is up with you?" Albus asks, slapping Teddy firmly on the back in a way that straddles the line between violence and affection.

"I can't tell you right now," Teddy says. "Can you just like, not mention it to anyone? I'll try to explain soon."

"Okay?" Albus says, and pulls away to sit at the table. 

"What are you doing?" Teddy asks, sitting at the end of the table, which is relatively clear of papers and books.

"Trying to read Marx," Albus sighs, pushing a hand backwards through his swoop of hair. "But the Muggle history is making it like, impenetrable."

"It's okay, Al, what's that quote you read me?" Scorpius says, his head buried in a huge textbook. "Something about swords."

"Right!" Albus says, laughing. "The sword of enthusiasm is just as good as the sword of genius!" He frowns. "I'm not sure I'm enthusiastic, though."

Teddy laughs. "You'll be fine. Programmes like this are endurance tests—the only thing you need to do is keep going." He's reminded of Unspeakable training, trying to memorise centuries' worth of history and rules and procedures at the same time as going through rigorous physical tests and substantive training in the main fields of study. He doesn't miss it.

Albus picks up a pen, twirls it in his fingers. "Thanks, mate." He scowls at his book. "But what the fuck is a _brumaire_?"

Teddy laughs and takes a sip of beer. "So, er, have you seen James? He came home last night, right?"

"We just got here a couple hours ago," Albus says, "so I dunno. But he's probably training. His kit bag isn't here."

Teddy grips his bottle, running his thumb over the condensation-sogged label. He had been hoping he could get some insight into James's mood. He wishes he could straight up ask Albus for advice, but Albus still thinks Teddy is their married godbrother, so he can’t be like, "Hey Al, what do you think is the best way to get in James's pants?" 

He stares at them, the way Albus has his foot in Scorpius’s lap and the way Scorpius just stole Albus’s beer.

"Do you ever worry," Teddy muses, "that you've asked each other to make too many sacrifices?"

Scorpius and Albus look up, and this time Scorpius doesn't even mumble about hippogriff vulvas. 

"Er, what do you mean?" Scorpius asks.

"Like, being in a relationship like you two are," Teddy says. "It's one thing to make sacrifices for another person, but do you worry about the other person making sacrifices for you?"

"Mate," Albus says, his face creased with concern, "you make the sacrifices together, yeah?"

Scorpius nods. 

Teddy swallows and nods. "Hey, have you two ever taken the Time-Travel Receptivity Assessment? To see if you'd be cleared by the Ministry for time travel?"

***

Teddy lands in Dorset outside the stadium and casts a Reflection Charm to double-check his appearance. He's self-conscious since Albus said he looks like Robert Downey Jr. Like, which RDJ is Albus thinking of? Tony Stark? Young RDJ? Whatever. It's not like his usual appearance is perfect, either. It'll have to be good enough.

He walks into the stadium, passing a wizard sitting at a front desk. Teddy nods, nervous but walking with purpose and turning left at random. The wizard pays him no attention. 

Teddy's never been in this part of a stadium before; whenever he goes to games with Harry and Draco he follows blindly behind them, through the entrance and up into the stands, but now he's in corridors looking for, what? Changing rooms? He can't ask anyone, because they'll think he's some crazy stalker looking for the famous James Potter.

A woman walks out of a door on the left. She hoists a large navy-blue duffel onto her shoulder, then reaches back to pull her long ponytail out from under the strap. She sees Teddy and nods politely.

But he knows who this is! Penelope Houghton, Puddlemere's Seeker! Teddy's mum's favourite player.

"Excuse me," Teddy says, figuring he might as well ask. If she decides he's a Potter stalker and calls the Aurors, he can always pop into a closet and change his appearance.

She turns, looking unimpressed. Fuck—she probably thinks he's trying to make a pass at her. Or get an autograph.

"I'm a friend of James Potter," he says quickly. "Can you point me?"

"If you really know him," she says, tilting her head, "what colour are his favourite socks?"

An image flashes in Teddy's mind of James, shirtless, on the floor of Lily's bedroom, pulling on his socks. "Red."

She points to a door farther down the corridor. "He may still be practicing. Navarro made the Chasers stay. If he's done, he'll be in there. If not you can get on the pitch through there and wait in the stands."

"Thanks," Teddy says, then, impulsively, "You're my mum's favourite player."

Penelope Houghton smiles. "Tell her thanks!"

Teddy strides to the door and pushes it open. It's a quiet changing room. There are shirts and socks on benches, the distinctive smell of sweat mixed with Air-Freshening Charms. He locates James's locker quickly by the trainers, a worn pair of suede Adidas, which have been toed off under the bench. He wonders what the locker is like, whether James has anything hanging in it, whether it's stuffed with junk or mostly empty, whether it has a bunch of packaged snacks in it. But he's not here to snoop in James's stuff. 

He walks past to where there's a corridor leading in the other direction, then a door, and he's outside, coming onto the pitch from the wrong direction. It's cold, and Teddy pulls his coat—a knee-length wool one that Draco bought him last Christmas—tighter around himself. At first he can't hear anyone over the sound of the wind, then he hears a distant shout and looks up. Four people are flying so far away that Teddy can't make them out. He's not in the right place to watch people flying; it's odd to be at ground level.

Teddy walks to one of the ground-level benches used for players and coaches and stadium workers, rather than spectators, and sits. He leans back and casts a Sunshade Charm, watching the people fly above him, passing balls back and forth. He pushes his hair out of his eyes, wishing it could be a colour other than dark brown. Teddy's hair may always be changing, but it's not supposed to be boring, or normal.

He's nervous; he can feel the bubbly apprehension in his chest, but he's not really worried. He feels like it's going to be fine, and wonders if he should be feeling worried.

If it was someone else, maybe he'd be worried. But it's _James_ —James, who approaches everything he does with enthusiasm and gusto. He's the exact person to face a challenge like this, and he's the exact person to make Teddy feel like he can do it. They can make sacrifices together, like Albus said, not one at the expense of the other. And it'll work (or at least, it probably will, for as much as they're in control of anything) because it's James and his grit and intelligence and willpower do the work to get things done.

Teddy watches as the people fly slowly towards the ground, and sits up straight. A man Teddy recognises as Lundgren and a woman land first, followed by the coach, Navarro, then James. Navarro and James make eye contact with Teddy and Navarro calls, "Can I help you?"

James, looking straight at Teddy, says, "Ah, he's with me. You all go ahead." Teddy hears a hitch in James’s voice, sees a tension in his shoulders.

Lundgren throws James a questioning look, but eventually they go on, leaving James on the pitch with Teddy.

"You came." James crosses his arms. He looks unsure and, if Teddy’s reading him right, relieved.

"How'd you know it's me?" Teddy asks, annoyed even through his nervousness that he's been walking around looking like RDJ when it isn't even a competent disguise.

"I know you." James shrugs. "Your knee." 

Teddy looks down. He's got one leg bent, turned in at a sharp angle to touch the opposite thigh. "Fuck," he sighs. "This is why I don't do applied missions. You'd think that I, of all people, would be good at disguises."

James sits next to him, their thighs almost touching. Teddy wants to grab James’s hand, but he’s not sure he’s allowed and grabs his own knee instead.

"I asked you not to follow me," James points out, but he doesn't sound upset.

"I know." Teddy doesn't say anything for a minute. "I'm sorry?"

James's mouth twitches up. "It's okay. I would've come back soon, anyway. I've been worried I fucked this up."

"I've been worried _I_ fucked it up."

"Not today, Lupin," James says, and Teddy's chest expands—he can breathe. James continues, “I know you’re going to ask why I left but I—I don’t understand what happened. I think I had a panic attack, but it doesn’t make sense. I wish I had like, just gone into the other room or something.” James moves his hand so his fingers brush Teddy’s. "I don't know why I freaked out so badly. I wasn't trying to run away from _you_ —just, all of it. You really didn't do anything. When I got home I felt like an idiot, because I couldn't even figure out why I had got so upset."

"It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I think I figured out what happened!" Teddy says, hooking his pinky finger around James’s; his eagerness to share his idea gives his tone an energetic momentum. "It happened to me, too, when I was here—do you remember? When the Malfoys were at dinner and I ran into the garden and was sitting there crying in the dark?"

"Oh yeah," James says. "What _was_ that about? At the time I thought you were upset about something that happened with Brianna…"

"It was Draco," Teddy explains with a sad smile. "He was all wrong. I mean, he's him. He's Scorpius's dad, Mr Malfoy, but I was used to _Draco,_ and during dinner I had a minor freakout about how off everything was with the way he and your dad were interacting, and then I told him, 'Gotta go, Grindylow,' and he said, 'I'll see you later.'"

James scrunches his nose, his freckles visible in the low winter sunlight. "Your Draco would've said, 'In the morn, Graphorn'?"

"Yes!" Teddy says. "It sounds stupid, but that fucked me up. My brain was like one of those Muggle computers where the screen just goes wonky and it dies, you know?"

"Yes!” James cries. “It was exactly like that. Because it was something that my—the other Harry said. I was kind of having minor distress over you and Harry discussing veela erotica—because that would _never_ happen with my dad!—but then he said, 'Can I get you a potion?'"

"Why did that trigger you?" Teddy asks, not following.

"My dad doesn't like to use potions," James says, leaning back with his hands pointed backwards, wrapping his fingers around the wood of the bench. "I dunno, he hated Potions at Hogwarts and read some article about potion-dependency and he will not take Pepper Up unless he's actually close to dying. I once heard him rant about how overuse of potions causes potion-resistant bacteria. He buys these herbal remedies."

Teddy laughs. "Do they not work?"

James smiles and looks up at the sky. "No, they work. I just like to give him a hard time." He turns, and Teddy is struck by how much green is in his hazel eyes in the sun. "It really is like being triggered, isn't it?"

"An incongruity trigger," Teddy says. "Yeah. I'm going to write up an article about it."

"Wicked," James says. "I want to read it."

"Alright," Teddy says, still not over his delight that he can share his work with people from his personal life. And that James is interested, cares, wants to talk about it, can share this with him.

“It wasn’t just that thing with Harry, though,” James admits, squinting at Teddy in the sunlight. “I mean, it mostly was. But also—I’ve been a little worried I’m more invested in this than you are."

"I'm invested," Teddy blurts, needing James to understand, turning towards him and moving closer. "I'm so invested I need to make an appointment with Gringotts about managing how invested I am. I just approach it differently than you, I think."

“Yeah?” James asks.

"I'm sorry," Teddy blurts, and James opens his mouth, but Teddy cuts him off. "No, let me talk. I'm—I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have been dwelling on the challenges. I really am confident that we will work. I mean, really, that was my entire reason for worrying about the challenges, because I was so worried they'd be the only thing standing in the way of us. But I do think we can make it work. We can. We fucking can, right? I mean, we can insist to Nettles and we can find some way of making it safe. They've already made huge strides in making the portal safe, consistent, and stable."

James sighs, screwing up his mouth to the side. "It's alright. I'm sorry too. I should've been more willing to talk about it when you were worried. It didn't occur to me that you might need to problem-solve in order to feel more confident about all of it. But I think that's what you needed, right?"

"Yeah, I think." Teddy shrugs. "It’s crazy how all of this universe baggage makes learning about how to communicate so...intense. But I won’t make the same mistakes next time, okay?"

"We’ll have some, er, unusual problems," James warns. "That we probably can't anticipate. Emotional things that maybe no one has ever confronted before in the history of the universe. Or, er, multiverse. So we talk about it, yeah?"

"We talk about it," Teddy agrees. "We figure it out one day at a time." 

"Because I'm not sure we can have a plan," James says, a niggling worry in his eyes. "Like, if you need to have an exact plan—"

"I don't," Teddy interrupts. "I mean, I wish we could. But, it's not possible, right? And I'm starting to think that maybe anyone who thinks they've got life all planned out is a bit delusional, anyway."

James exhales. "Good. Good—because we can figure out problems and stuff and do our best to plan but like, what if I'm living in your universe and then something happens and my parents need me? Or the other way around? Or what if the Unspeakables figure out that there's a danger to hopping between universes too often in a given time frame? Like, I feel like even with those things we could find a way, but we can't necessarily _plan._ Not for every contingency."

"Harry told me something interesting," Teddy says. "He said you can't guarantee forever, but you can agree to keep working at it for as long as you both want to. As long as you're having fun."

James laughs. "That doesn't sound like something my dad would say."

"Your dad wouldn't." Teddy shrugs. "My Harry would."

"Well," James says, "I'm still having fun."

"Me too." Teddy grins, leaning closer, but James pulls back; he has more to say.

"I don't want you to second-guess me if I say I'm willing to make a sacrifice," James says, his tone of voice brooking no argument. "I won't offer anything I'm not sure of."

"Okay," Teddy agrees, not wanting to diminish the importance by watering down his response with explanations or qualifications.

"I'm—" James pauses, a Weasleyish fire in his eyes. "People always think I get things because of nepotism."

"What?" That wasn't what Teddy had been expecting.

When James opens his mouth, he's mocking other people's voices. "Of course _Potter_ got an O, look who his parents are. Well, _Potter_ got on the Quidditch team, they’re probably trying to get on his dad's good side. No sense in us trying out for a professional team, they're going to pick Potter because his fame will be good for ticket sales!"

Teddy has experienced his fair share of those comments. His classmates were forever convinced he hadn't earned his scores in DADA. Teddy reaches over and threads his fingers with James's. "I used to get that, too."

James squeezes his hand. "So I get a little…prickly. If I think people are suggesting that I get handed things. I kinda thought you were suggesting that about how I was acting about us, like you thought I was being blasé or something. I don't expect us to work because of some cliched shite like the hero gets the girl. Or, the hero gets the universe-hopping metamorphmagus."

"Why can't I be the hero?" Teddy teases.

"The hero gets the hero," James concedes. "But I don't expect that. I just think—if we put the effort in, you know?"

Teddy squeezes his fingers. "I know. And for what it's worth, when I'm with you, you make me feel like it will work. And Draco says we can do blood magic to make us inseparable. To force Nettles's hand." He snorts. "If need be."

James laughs incredulously. "Well. That's quite a backup plan." He looks out over the pitch. "Would it actually work?"

Teddy snorts. "I'm sure it would. It's Draco. I don't think it'll come to that, though."

"Why not?" James asks, bringing his feet up into a cross-legged position.

"Because I believe we can do it," Teddy says. "You have a way. Look how much you've managed to get out of Nettles already with nothing but flattery and brazenness."

"Ah," James says with a grin. "But maybe you underestimate how many of my successes are due to blood magic."

Teddy honks a ridiculous laugh, feeling warm and happy. "I've discovered your secrets." He looks up at the sky, watching the way the low sun shines on the stands.

"I need you to tell me if I should calm down," James says, looking at his lap and stilling his knee where it’s jiggling.

"Huh?" Teddy asks, turning to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I realise I kinda like, suggested that I might literally move to another universe for a relationship that was one day old. I sometimes—it's just how I am." James meets his eyes. "I get excited when I find things I want and I jump in head first and don't stop paddling until I've learned to swim, you know? That's just the way I know how to do things. I did it with school, Quidditch, everything. Like—I know how to play the trombone because one summer I became obsessed. I know it can be too much. So if I'm freaking you out, or spooking you or something, can you just tell me?"

Teddy turns, shifting on the bench so he's straddling it facing James, reaches up and runs a thumb over James's cheek, tracing his finger over the freckles that have been catching his eye. "You're _not_ too much. I love all of those things about you. Fuck, it's like, the thing I like about you most."

James laughs, a little self-deprecating.

"I'm serious," Teddy says, leaning in. "Do you really know how to play the fucking trombone?"

"Yeah." James grins.

"I love you," Teddy blurts, and it comes out way too loud and way too soon, leaving Teddy worried that maybe _he's_ too much.

James breaks into a big smile, pulling back from Teddy's hand on his cheek, and holds his hand out for a handshake. "I love you back."

Teddy wrinkles his nose and reaches out to shake James's hand. "This is…an oddly formal reaction to saying _that._ "

"I want to kiss you so badly," James whispers, his eyes dropping to Teddy's lips. "And I want to push you over on this bench and climb on top of you and show you exactly how thirsty I am about everything I care about."

Merciful Helga.

Teddy swallows. "Then why are we shaking hands?"

"Because no one here can see me kiss you."

"Wait, why? I don't look like me."

"Yeah," James says, dropping the handshake. "It's just—if people in this universe are going to know I have a new boyfriend, and my new boyfriend can't look like Teddy but has the ability to look like _literally anyone else_ , there's no way I'm picking—" he waves his hand at Teddy, "—that."

"Fuck, is it that bad?" Teddy asks, looking down at himself. "Harry and Draco and my parents came up with this appearance."

"No fucking wonder!" James says. "My dad totally has a thing for Robert Downey Jr."

"What the fuck?" Teddy asks, but he's well past the point of expecting anything to make sense. He stands, wanting to leave so he can morph himself into a different body and kiss James. 

"Let's get out of here?" James asks. "I just have to change."

"Yeah," Teddy says, "let's go," and starts for the corridor to the changing rooms. But his legs are too short and he trips, hands flying in front of him, bracing for impact, when he feels a tingle of magic at the back of his neck and freezes a few inches from the ground. "Fuck," he huffs around a laugh, turning his head to the side to look up at James, who is pointing his wand at Teddy.

James drops into a squat, cancels his spell, and puts an arm under Teddy's armpit, pulling them both up to stand. "Alright there, Robert?"

Teddy elbows him. "Thanks for catching me. But don't call me Robert."

"Don't show up looking like Robert and I won't call you Robert."

***

In the changing room, Teddy sits impatiently on the bench and fiddles with one of James's gloves as James showers and changes. Lundgren is banging about in there, so Teddy can't morph into someone else or touch James or anything, and the entire business takes far too long.

James gets pants, trousers, socks, and shoes on, then stops dressing and finishes gathering up his things without a shirt. Teddy can't tell whether James is trying to tease him or if it's just that James always keeps his shirt off as long as possible. 

Teddy tries to keep eyes on James's glove, which he's picked up for something to do, but he keeps looking back up because James is so fucking fit and Teddy knows that he's been allowed to touch that chest, that back, and he'll be allowed to again. And probably soon. But right now fucking Lundgren is prattling on about broomstick polish viscosity and Teddy is a little worried that he might snap.

"So then I said, Smith, I said, you can't rub against the grain like that," Lundgren announces.

"That's what they said," Teddy mumbles.

"What?" Lundgren asks, turning to Teddy.

"Er, nothing?" Teddy says, tapping his fingers on the bench. "James, are you ready to go?"

James, still shirtless, points his wand at his head and hits it with a drying charm. He smirks. "Not quite. Are you in a rush there, Robert?"

"Yes, a bit," Teddy says. "And I'm not sure why I can still see your nipples."

James looks down, puffing out his chest a bit. "Do you not like them?" He turns to Lundgren and explains, "Robert has a pierced nipple, so I guess mine are too plain for him."

Lundgren doesn't blink an eye at this, and Teddy has to laugh—because James says stuff like that so often that no one would ever blink an eye.

James grabs his shirt off the bench and pulls it on. "Fine, I'll put my nipples away, since you dislike them so vehemently."

Teddy laughs and stands, throwing the glove into James's locker. 

James slings his bag onto his shoulder. "To my parents' house, I suppose. Unless we're going to go, er." His eyes flit to Lundgren. "All the way back to your place."

"Your parents' is fine," Teddy says. 

"Nice to meet you, Robert," Lundgren says, sticking out a hand. "Will I see you again soon?"

"I wouldn't count on it, mate!" James says, throwing a cheeky wink at Teddy. Lundgren leaves, and James asks, "Floo or—"

The door to the changing room slams open, and Teddy turns, eyes widening as Nettles stalks into the room followed by Bev, who has a hand on one hip.

Nettles rushes in, looking between James and Teddy-as-Robert. "Mr Potter," he says. "Where is our mutual friend?"

Teddy winces, wondering how bad a dressing down he's about to get for sneaking into Level Nine and going to a different universe without permission, and changes back to his normal appearance.

"Oh, thank Circe," Nettles exhales, clutching his chest. "I didn't want to chase you all over the entire universe, much less the multiverse." He lets his arm fall. "Identity confirmation?"

Teddy nods and casts the charm to confirm his identity. 

Nettles checks the identity confirmation, takes a long deep inhale, and then shouts, "You bloody fucking morons!" 

" _I_ didn't do anything sir," James says seriously, and Teddy has to clamp down on a laugh.

Nettles narrows his eyes at James. "Did I or did I not send you to another universe—at your request—to solve the problem of open links between the universes?"

"Yes." James shoves his hand in his jeans pocket.

"And did you or did you not storm back to your universe when things were even worse between the two of you, leaving the link more open than ever?"

"Wait, which Nettles are you?" James asks.

Nettles rolls his eyes skyward. "I'm the Nettles from _this_ universe!" 

Bev, behind him, starts to laugh. Teddy catches it, trying to hide it behind his hand.

James presses his lips together. "Sorry."

"And you!" Nettles turns to Teddy. "Coming here without permission! Running away from Bev when they said to wait! Risking that someone could see you!"

"In my defence,” Teddy says, “I was dressed as Robert Downey Jr."

Nettles slowly turns to look at Bev. Bev makes a don't-look-at-me gesture.

"Alright, look," Nettles says. "We have information to share with you, which you'd know if you had actually come and talked to us. Like you promised you would. Like the conditions of your employment demand." Nettles pauses theatrically. "Because I am _on your side_ and I have done nothing to make you think that you can't trust me to _work with you._ "

Teddy winces. It's true—Nettles has been accommodating. He can't explain why he felt like he needed to sneak around behind his back.

"Sorry, sir," Teddy says.

"What the hell happened?" Nettles asks, already moving on to his next order of business. "Why did James come back here like that?"

"Oh!" James cries, excited. "Teddy figured that out."

Nettles turns, eyes expectant.

"Yes, well," Teddy explains, "we think it's an incongruity trigger, wherein incongruities between the universes cause a person to be triggered into basically a panic attack and to experience an intense need to get away. It happened to me here when something very wrong happened with Draco Malfoy, and it happened to James in my universe when something very wrong happened with Harry Potter."

"When you say," Nettles says carefully, "'something very wrong happened,' do you mean that I should be running back to Level Nine and sounding the alarm? What alarm, I'm not sure, as we've not yet developed an alarm for this type of scenario, but some kind of alarm, maybe I could blow a magical trumpet?"

"Trombone," James says.

"Potter, whatever, we can have an entire brass quintet, I don't give a damn!"

"No," Teddy says quickly, before Nettles can Summon a baton to make a point. "The wrongness wasn't…consequential. It was only wrong to us in the moment. In both cases…certain people didn't respond the way their counterparts would, and it acted as a trigger."

"That's fascinating," Bev says. "I think I've experienced a minor version of that, but because I never existed in this universe, and because most of the people I knew in both universes are only coworkers…it hasn't been huge for me, not like what you just described. Did you have tinnitus?"

"Yes!" James says.

"We need to convene a panel," Nettles says, his eyes widening and shining with delight. "An inter-universal panel!"

Teddy wrinkles his nose. "Sir. Wouldn't that be contraindicated by the guidelines you recently drew up?"

He waves a hand. "We can figure it out, I think. Everyone Polyjuices so no one has any idea who anyone else is, then we can be talking with our counterpart from another universe without ever knowing it's them!"

"Er, sir?" Teddy says. "Not to detract from this inter-universal panel, but can we concentrate on the more actionable problem of me and James, first?"

"Oh, we already figured that out," Nettles says dismissively. "How many different Nettleses do you think we could get in one room? Imagine the—"

"Sir," James interrupts. "You figured out a solution?"

"Oh! Yes, yes," Nettles says. "It's quite brilliant. Hancock, tell them what you found, first."

"I scoured the annals," Bev says (and if Teddy hadn’t already suspected Bev was a Ravenclaw he would now), "looking for evidence of inter-universal travel that hadn't been flagged before, trying to increase our pool of evidence."

Oh, brilliant. Teddy should've thought of that.

"And when analysing historical data from the M&M P&I, I found something strange. A woman named Holwice Tothyll, for whom no identification existed, suddenly appeared at the Ministry applying for an M&M on 4 November 1793. One day later, she appeared and registered a soul bond with the Register of Deeds. Her marriage was to a man named Garret Shevington. It was an odd bit of data, because a person who appears one day—had they emigrated or some such—wouldn't be likely to get married the next day. So I sent a message to Nettles in your universe and asked someone to check the records there."

The Magical & Muggle Passport & Identity office is notoriously stingy with their data; Teddy is impressed with Bev’s research.

James has a concentrating look on his face that makes Teddy think he'll be able to recall every detail of this story.

"Well, your Nettles found that there was no Holwice Tothyll in your universe. At all. No mention ever. Which didn't tell me anything definitive, but at least told me that there was a discrepancy between universes. 

"So then I dug into every magidatabase in our system, searching for any mention of Holwice Tothyll and Garret Shevington, and found that they had one child and lived on an estate in Bedfordshire that's still occupied by their descendants. I went to Bedfordshire to pay them a visit and they were, like most of the landed gentry, delighted to talk about their ancestry. They had a house-elf look for records from that time and brought me a diary. It was magicked to—"

"Hancock, let's get on with it in this century please," Nettles insists.

"In any case, I read the diary. She'd made it unreadable except to someone else who had travelled between universes." Bev pauses. "Quite genius magic, really. Holwice was a metamorphmagus who had family in a different universe and somehow managed to figure out how to make the jump, out of merely academic interest. She was Head Girl at Hogwarts in her day and figured it out using the same information that Barstaple did, a few decades later. Only when she arrived in this universe, she fell in love with Garret. Long story short, Holwice and Garret travelled back and forth between universes—in secret!—for forty years.”

"Wicked," James whispers.

"I know!" Bev says. "So Holwice becomes convinced that they can't publicise the knowledge of how to make these jumps because it would be pandemonium. So they swear their daughter to secrecy so that the knowledge would die with her, and magic all of their artefacts so that they can only be accessed by others who already have the knowledge to travel through universes, ensuring they can’t fall into the wrong hands."

"In conclusion," Nettles announces, "we have definitive proof that Tajik's worry about an open link between universes is unfounded."

Bev smiles widely.

James rushes forward to hug them. Bev looks confused at first, but then pats James on the back.

"I can't believe you did all of that research," Teddy marvels, walking closer. "How can we thank you?"

Bev waves a hand. "I spent a couple weeks working with James to get him to your universe, and I couldn't stop worrying about it once he was gone. I heard Tajik's concerns and thought I could maybe find something. From one universe-traveller to another."

"Yes, it's all quite lovely," Nettles says. "So all that's left is the logistical concerns about how a protracted relationship between universes would be handled. There will be a fair bit of paperwork, I'm sure."

"I can handle that," Teddy says.

"Healer check-ups, submitting to experiments."

"No problem," James says.

"Essentially, you will be starting a new subdepartment in the Department of Mysteries."

"Sir?" Teddy asks.

"Well, we suddenly have a tonne of experiments to run, papers to write, theories to test, hypotheses to operationalise! This is the start of a decades- or centuries-long research programme! You will be head of Universe Travel, Unspeakable Lupin, if you're willing, and Mr Potter here can be your first new hire."

"What?" James asks.

"You have six N.E.W.T.s," Nettles says. "You're fresh out of Hogwarts, minus a gap year or four. You've passed the TTRA. You've already demonstrated your ability to work within our department, follow complex theories, and take in new information quickly. There's an entrance exam, but you'll have no problem passing it, especially with Unspeakable Lupin's help."

Teddy's heart races. Nettles is offering James a _job._ James—smart, incredible, action-oriented, creative, motivated James—would make a _fantastic_ Unspeakable, and somehow Teddy has never considered it until this very moment. But—his chest feels tight from apprehension, because James isn't supposed to be the one who sacrifices. They're supposed to sacrifice together.

"Yes!" James cries, slapping Nettles on the back. "Brilliant!"

"You don't have to," Teddy blurts, ignoring the others in the room. "I don't mind quitting my job." He vaguely registers Nettles spluttering in his peripheral vision.

"But your job is available in either universe, Ted," James says, wrinkling his nose in confusion. "That makes no sense."

"But—"

"What did I say about second-guessing me?" James objects, but with no anger. "I already knew I didn't want to play Quidditch forever, and even if I wanted that, you _can't_ play Quidditch forever—no one plays past thirty-five, really. And I've done it; I've checked that off the list. Mr Nettles, does the Department of Mysteries have a team in the Ministry league?"

"Yes."

"Well there you go," James says. "Teddy, I _want_ to. This is incredible. We can work together and solve mysteries and go on inter-universal adventures, and you're telling me that I don't _have to_?" He laughs with joyful incredulity. "It'll still suck in so many ways, but it's fucking incredible.” He pauses, searching Teddy’s eyes. “Right?"

Teddy jolts forward to wrap James in a hug that seems to smother every one of his senses with _Jamesjamesjames._ "It's fucking incredible," Teddy agrees in a whisper. "It's perfect."

James snorts in Teddy's ear and squeezes him. "I get to be an Unspeakable. Do you have any idea how fucking cool this is? Al and I used to play Unspeakables and Aurors when we were kids, and we always wanted to be the Unspeakable because Dad was an Auror so that was boring."

Teddy laughs into James's hair. "Yeah, my mum is an Auror too, remember?" 

Nettles clears his throat pointedly, and Teddy pulls away from James, pushing his turquoise hair off his face, but doesn't let go of James’s hand.

"The logistics are up to you, of course, as long as you get it cleared with the department. If you're going to be in this universe, Unspeakable Lupin, you'll need a different identity and appearance. And Mr Potter, if you're in Teddy's universe, you can be James, but you can't be _Potter_."

"Who cares about names," James—James fucking Potter—says. "I can't wait to spend more time in a universe where no one knows who I am. It'll be bizarre and there will be no chance I end up on the front page of _The Moon_."

Teddy laughs, exuberance flowing through his body.

"Who knows," Nettles muses, "maybe we can leverage this to improve public image somehow. We've got this extraordinarily low public approval rating ever since the Abernathy scandal. We've currently got a lower approval rating than the Wizengamot."

Teddy winces. That's hard to believe.

"But!" Nettles hollers, and Teddy's stomach sinks a bit. "You must both give me—me in every universe, any Ezekiel Nettles in any universe—your word that you will talk to me if there's a problem, rather than sneaking around. Because we'll help."

"Deal," James says. "And if you decide to split Teddy and I up against our will, you should know that we're going to perform blood magic that will make us inseparable."

"May Rowena give me strength," Nettles sighs, pinching his nose.

Teddy gives James a wild _What?!_ look, but James shakes his head as if to tell him not to worry. As if blood magic is a thing you bluff about, like a bad hand of Uno cards.

"Figure out what you prefer with the logistics," Nettles says, "and come run it by me. Until then, stay put, and do not even _think_ about crossing universes without alerting us. We need to know what plane of existence you're on."

"Okay," they say.

"You three," Nettles says, looking at them and waving his hand to include Bev in the group, "are officially the multiverse's foremost experts on the multiverse and inter-universal travel. Bev has already decided that they don’t want to switch departments."

"Correct," Bev says without hesitation. "No offence, it's just—I don't like to dwell on the fact that I've changed universes. But of course, if you ever need help…"

"We can't thank you enough," James says, but Bev waves a dismissive hand. "Let us buy you a drink soon."

"Sure," they say and look at their watch. "I need to run to pick up my kid from school. Am I free to—?"

Nettles nods; Bev waves and Disapparates.

Nettles shoves one hand in the pocket of his waistcoat, but it doesn't fit and he shoves it in his trouser pocket instead. He sighs. "I am giving you both the benefit of the doubt. Don't make me regret it."

"We won't, sir," Teddy says, as James says, "Thank you so much."

“Alright then, let me cast the Vow on you, Lupin,” Nettles sighs. “The last thing we need is you clowns accidentally revealing secrets in this universe because the Vow doesn’t work across universes.”

***

"Al and Scorpius are at your parents' house," Teddy says with a tone of warning.

But James only grins, grabs Teddy's arm, and Disapparates. Teddy lands, tripping into James's chest, and realises James has Apparated them straight to his bedroom. James grabs the lapels of Teddy's coat and pushes them off his arms. Teddy laughs, trying to grab James's hips, but James avoids his grip, reaching for Teddy's shirt hem and tugging it over his head.

"You must really want to get me naked if you're taking my shirt off before yours," Teddy laughs. "Choosing to allow yours to continue oppressing you."

"Yes," James agrees, then pauses, looking at Teddy's feet. "Your trousers are like four inches too short."

Teddy pulls his wand and murmurs, " _Finite incantatum;_ " his trouser legs lengthen to the correct length and he forces his shoes off with his toes, even though they're not trainers and he really should untie them.

"You should probably pick an appearance that is the same height," James says, kicking off his trainers. "For when you're in this universe. Both because it's more practical with clothes and because I like your height."

Teddy laughs, reaching again for James, wanting to pull off his shirt, but James leans down and, without warning, sucks Teddy's nipple into his mouth. Teddy almost falls over at the feeling of the piercing on James's hot tongue.

"Fuck," Teddy says, stumbling backward a bit.

"Is that okay?" James asks, pushing Teddy towards the bed.

"Y—yes," Teddy says. "Just, no teeth, no twisting."

James dives back in, sucking the rod into his mouth, and Teddy's overwhelmed with want. He looks behind himself to make sure the bed is there, signals James to stop sucking by touching his chin, and sits, falling onto his back with a smile.

James kneels on the edge of the bed, one knee between Teddy's legs, and leans down to kiss him. Teddy reaches for the hem of James's shirt and tugs it up. James breaks away from Teddy's lips, smiling, and pulls his shirt off. 

"Fuck, I love being naked with you," James says, grabbing at his tracksuit bottoms and awkwardly pulling them off, leaving only a pair of navy boxers and white socks. 

"That works out pretty well, then," Teddy breathes, laughing, "because I like being naked with you."

"Why'd you get a nipple piercing?" James asks as he unbuckles Teddy's belt.

Teddy laughs. "Oh god, well." He sucks in a breath as James tugs his trousers down. "So I went into Unspeakable training right after Hogwarts, and I was so young, right? And the job is so serious and everything about being an Unspeakable felt so, like, consequential. It's a high-stakes job. But I was only eighteen!"

James wrinkles his freckled nose and nods. "Leaving Hogwarts is so strange. We could really use more wizarding universities. Eighteen year olds aren't grown."

"Exactly," Teddy says, voice faltering slightly when James reaches into his boxers and wraps strong fingers around his cock. "So I told my mum how I was feeling and she told me I had to remember that I was still young and stupid even though I had a serious job. And she understood because she's an Auror, and—oh, fuck, James, that feels good."

James grins. "So you decided to get a nipple piercing?"

"Yeah," Teddy says, laughing. "To remind myself that I'm still me under the Unspeakable veneer, you know?"

James meets his eyes. "I love it." 

Teddy reaches down to push his boxers over his arse and off his feet.

"My mum went with me, actually. She got one, too."

At this, James pauses. "You got your nipple pierced with your mum."

Teddy smiles. "Yep."

"Fuck, I love you and your ridiculous family," James says, his eyes bright and his face open and happy.

"I feel the same way about yours," Teddy says, tugging James on top and losing himself in kiss, tongue, bite, grab.

James stands to push off his boxers, and Teddy leans up on his forearms to look at him. 

"Better get a good look now," James says with a smirk. "If I'm quitting the team and taking a job of the mind, this body won't last."

Teddy chuckles. "You're fit as fuck, but my favourite parts of your body, for the record, are the parts that aren't perfect."

James raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Teddy reaches up and rubs a finger over a mark on James's chest. "Is this a birthmark?"

"They call it a 'café au lait mark,'" James says, smiling. "My mum always said it was good luck, and that it's where I get my energy from. A constant source of caffeine."

Teddy laughs. "That's brilliant."

" _Witch Weekly_ edited it out, in their Quidditch issue." He shrugs.

"Well that," Teddy says with a frown, "is unacceptable. But also, good. Let magazine readers have the fake James Potter; I'll get the real one."

James smiles and climbs onto the bed next to Teddy, turning so they can look at each other. 

"Hi," Teddy says, smiling. He reaches down for James's half-hard cock and strokes it absently. "So we're going to be Unspeakables together."

James grins, scooching closer and pressing his hips forward to meet Teddy's hand. "We sure are. We're going to be a power couple." Then he pushes Teddy's hand away, brings their cocks together, and wraps a hand around them both.

Teddy's eyes close. The feeling is incredible. James, James's smell, James's hands, James's mouth—James, with him. He smiles and lets out a moan, then feels James's lips on his neck, sucking and licking the skin.

"Your hair is turquoise again," James mumbles against Teddy's neck. 

"Do you want to finish like this?" Teddy breathes. "Because if not, we should stop."

James releases their cocks and laughs, pressing a series of kisses along Teddy's jaw. "It's going to be incredible. How long will it take me to pass the exam?"

"I dunno. It won't be bad. I'll help you prepare. I can offer good incentives for getting the answers right." Teddy tries to wink, even though he knows he's shit at it compared to James.

James laughs, pressing his face into Teddy's neck. "I've always been a very motivated learner," he whispers. "What are you going to teach me?"

Teddy sucks in a breath. "Fuck." 

James laughs delightedly, but falls silent when Teddy flips him on his back and straddles his torso. "I'll teach you whatever you need to learn," he says, trying to act faux superior, but knowing that he's falling very short. "What are you going to teach me?"

James's face turns very serious. "Potions," he deadpans.

Teddy laughs, smacking James's arm. 

"I'm going to move in with you, in your universe, obviously," James says, stroking Teddy’s thighs, the change in subject making Teddy blink to keep up. "I mean, I don't even have a flat here, and if you're in this universe you need an alter ego for your appearance. So it just makes sense."

Teddy opens his mouth to ask _Are you sure?_ but remembers what James said before and allows himself to just grin. "Brilliant. And we'll come visit your family as often as you want."

"Thursday dinners," James says. "And Weasley Sunday lunches, sometimes. And Hogwarts-friends pub nights."

"Right," Teddy agrees. 

James feels around on the bed until he finds his wand, and he Summons a bottle of lube. "It sucks my parents can't know, but they will just have to meet you again as if you're a different person. Which is better anyway, probably, because then they won't have to trick their brains into realising that you're not the other Teddy, you know?"

"Yeah." Teddy nods, watching with amusement as James pours lube into his hand at the same time as discussing the logistics of their nascent relationship. "And who knows about later. We might end up living here, eventually. It'll depend how things go, what happens with work and family stuff, you know?"

"We'll worry about it then," James grins, reaching a hand between them at an awkward angle. "Like if the dads were right that Al or Scorp is pregnant and they need us here to help babysit so they can finish their degrees."

Teddy shifts, adjusting his weight so James can reach more easily. "I don't think that's likely," he says through chuckles of laughter.

"Why are you getting soft?" James frowns, balancing on an elbow in an impressive display of athleticism as he uses that hand to pump Teddy's flagging cock. 

"Fuck," Teddy says, eyes closing at the soft, warm, tingly pleasure rushing through his body. 

James pauses his other hand at an awkward, probing angle, checking with Teddy first. "Okay this way?" When Teddy nods, he presses his fingers inside.

"Probably because," Teddy pants, "we've been discussing living arrangements and family dinner obligations."

James's face creases into a beatific smile. "Fingers in an arsehole is my favourite posture for scheduling."

Teddy laughs and is overwhelmed with a feeling, so much that he isn't sure what feeling it is, exactly. But, he realises after a second—it's happiness. It's a heart-clenchy, overflowing love warmth that he's not used to feeling. Certainly not during sex, which, with other people, has always seemed more performative than intimate.

"You—" Teddy says, "you're fun to have sex with."

James purses his lips together and frowns in a confused, considering, hilarious face, and Teddy laughs.

"I just mean you—even during sex, it's so easy. We're laughing. It's fun."

"You do know sex is _supposed_ to be fun," James says, withdrawing his fingers and getting more lube with which he coats each of their cocks.

"I mean yeah, sex is always fun," Teddy says, trying to find words to explain what he means. "Having an orgasm, no matter what, is fun, as in like, an enjoyable way to spend time, but I mean like, the entire thing is fun. Like, I'd do this—" he pauses to wave his hand between them, "with you even if I wasn't going to have an orgasm."

James grins and leans up to press a quick, firm kiss to Teddy's lips. "You're going to have an orgasm." He kisses again. "Maybe two or three." 

"Aren't you quite a Gryffindor," Teddy laughs.

James finishes coating their cocks with lube, lines them up, and reaches his slick hands around to Teddy's shoulders, dragging them down Teddy's back, leaving a trail of slick behind his fingers. James's fingers come to a rest just below Teddy's hip bones, his pinky fingers press into the flesh of Teddy's arse. 

James, with strong hands, pulls Teddy closer, and Teddy presses his weight forward, resisting against James's position on the bed.

James curses when cock breaches rim, and Teddy's head drops forward on an exhale, the pleasure tingling up his spine and pooling, hot and heavy and demanding, deep in his belly and cock.

"That," Teddy whispers, "fuck, that feels good."

"Same," James says, tilting his head back, eyes closed, smile on his face. "Fuck."

Teddy leans forward like his lips are magnetised to James's lengthened, exposed throat, and he sucks the stubbled, freckled skin there, relishing the feel of James's Adam's apple moving against his cheek when James swallows.

James lets out a moan and digs his fingers into Teddy's back, his fingernails pricking into Teddy's back like ten points of fire and light. 

"Grab me harder," Teddy whispers, and James bites at Teddy's ear, pressing his fingers in harder.

They move together, and it's like Teddy's world rights itself. It's like two universes clicking together, no longer opposing each other but working in tandem. It's like congruity. It's like _homehomehomehome_. 

"Don't let go," Teddy says.

"Like I would."

Teddy buries his head in James's neck and James leans his head towards him. James's shoulder presses into one side of Teddy's head and his hair into the other. Collarbone, skin, shampoo, cinnamon. Teddy's hand reaches up to squeeze bicep, stroke cheek, pull hair. 

James smiles. James breathes, "yes yes yes yes." James exudes bliss that wraps around Teddy and settles in his pores, warming him from all directions.

Come flows first over hand between stomachs; two, three, four; thrusts falter beneath a moan. Teddy flops on top of James, no longer holding himself up on his arms, smearing come between their bodies and dislodging their spent cocks from body and from hand. 

James wipes his hand on Teddy's back.

"Hey!" Teddy objects, wiping his messy hand on James's arm in retaliation.

James makes an "hmmrpph" noise, and they lay on each other, breathing heavily. 

"We're going to have so much fun," Teddy says, his mouth smushed in James's neck.

James snorts and brings a hand up to Teddy's head, dragging his nails against the scalp. "We already are, no?"

Teddy smiles, nips at James's ear. "We are."

"It just occurred to me," James says, "that I can do whatever I want in your universe, and it won't get me in the tabloids. I'm quite famous here."

Teddy laughs.

"Can we go streaking?"

"Sure," Teddy mumbles, with no intention of actually doing it. Though he has a feeling if James really wanted to, he would end up going along.

"Just need to decide where," James says. "Trafalgar Square?"

Teddy snorts. "You know, I'm pretty famous in my universe. I mean, not like, cover of _Teen Witch_ famous, which I assume you are, but still—you could end up in a tabloid."

James turns his head to make eye contact. "But you," he says, grinning, "can change your appearance at will."

Teddy smiles, caught in those hazel eyes. "True. I wish we could tell your parents."

James frowns and runs a hand down Teddy's back. "I know. But, it won't really be a lie. I'm moving, getting a new job. We'll be back for Thursday dinner."

"True," Teddy says and sighs. "No perfect solutions to be had."

"That's true for everyone all the time," James says, stretching. "Urgh. We need a shower."

"Why is it that come isn't gross when you're in the middle of sex, but once you're no longer having sex, it's gross?"

James laughs. "Er, because your brain is no longer hijacked by the base needs of your dick? It's especially gross when it's dripping out." He pauses, then adds. "I mean, when it's dripping out and you're no longer having sex. It can be good when it's dripping if you're still going."

Teddy reaches a hand to scrub at his mouth and bursts into laughter.

"You want to Scourgify or grab some flannels before we walk to the bathroom?" James asks, laughing with Teddy.

"Both shit options," Teddy says. "Flannels." 

James reaches to open his bedside drawer, which has a bunch of flannels thrown in it, which makes Teddy laugh, and he sits up, leaning to press kisses to James's chest and café au lait mark, before taking one of the flannels from James and starting to wipe up the mess, starting with his stomach.

"Do you think the nipple piercing worked?" James asks, tilting his head as he wipes come out of the hair under his navel.

Teddy scrunches his nose. "What do you mean?"

"Like, has it kept you young?"

Teddy considers. He's young; only twenty-eight! But, somehow... "Not as well as I'd hoped," Teddy admits, holding his cock with his left hand and wiping it with the flannel in his right. "But that may just be everything about my life, not just work. My family is older; I'm an only child with no cousins." He nudges his knee into James's leg. "You keep me young. Playing leap frog in a fucking climbing gym."

James grins. "Do you think I'm at risk of losing my youthful vigour? Should I get a matching nipple ring before I join the ranks of the Unspeakables?"

Teddy laughs. "Er, no. I don't think you are."

"Merlin, I'm so glad I can move out of my parents' house without having to actually like, find a flat."

Teddy raises an eyebrow. "When you start getting paid, you can, you know, pay for half of it."

James shrugs. "Whatever, I'll pay for it obviously. I just didn't want to have to deal with an estate agent."

Teddy laughs and throws his semen-covered flannel at James's stomach. "You're ridiculous. Let's shower."

"Hold on," James says, hopping up and squatting down to rummage in his bottom drawer.

"You know, my first morning here," Teddy says, "I woke up to you rummaging in Lily's drawers like this. Only, er, wearing trousers. But. I got hard in bed looking at you."

James spins around on the balls of his feet, softening cock and balls hanging down between his bent knees, and laughs. "Wow, Teddy, if you think I'm that irresistible when I'm looking for lost shit in a messy house, this relationship is going to work out super well." 

Teddy laughs as James throws a piece of fabric at Teddy. The Invisibility Cloak. "Throw that over your head in case Albus or someone sees us walking to the bathroom."

"It's not long enough to entirely cover me," Teddy says. "They'll still see feet."

"Well yeah," James says and shrugs. "I don't care they know I am about to get off with someone in the shower. They just can't know it's you. So…"

Teddy smiles and shrugs. "Okay." He throws the cloak over his head and follows James to the door.

James cracks open the door, stark bollock naked, and peeks into the corridor. "Coast is clear," he says, throwing the door open and walking to the bathroom. Teddy follows him, feeling extremely exposed to be naked in the corridor of the Potters’ house, even if most of his body is invisible.

"Er, James?" Albus's voice says from behind them, and James turns.

"What?" James says, unabashed. "I'm going to take a shower."

Albus gestures at the disembodied feet and raises his eyebrows.

"I'm going to get off with these feet," James says. "See you later."

***

Teddy wakes to a mouthful of James's hair and a muscle cramp in his leg. It hurts like fuck. He blinks, stretching his leg and flexing his foot to try to make it stop.

James rouses at the movement and rolls onto his side, squinting at Teddy. "You woke up before me," he croaks, smiling, then clears his throat. "Usually I have to entice you awake with my wiles."

Teddy points his toes. "I have a cramp in my leg. And I like how you say 'usually' when this is our second day ever waking up together."

James presses a kiss to Teddy's cheek. "Yeah, but I was awake before you all those other days when you were sleeping in Lily's room." He pushes himself up on an arm and looks at Teddy's leg. "Wait, is this a sex injury? Have I broken you so fast, old man?" His voice has a timbre of mirth.

Teddy rolls his eyes, but he can feel his mouth moving into a smile despite his attempt to avoid encouraging James. He flexes his foot. "It's not a sex injury! It didn't happen when we were having sex."

"Your muscles were _very_ overworked yesterday, though," James says, touching his nose to Teddy's cheek and grinning.

"You're ridiculous," Teddy says with a smile, turning his head to capture James's lips in a kiss. "Metamorphmagi are prone to cramps, especially after having morphed in stature. But you're right that all the sex can't have helped."

James pulls back, his eyes studying Teddy's face. "It's not bad for your health, is it?" he asks. "To morph like that a lot."

"Nah," Teddy says, reaching a hand to push James's hair off his forehead. "Unless you think a cramp is dangerous."

James places a hand on Teddy's stomach and slides it up to his shoulder. "I woke up in the night and lay in bed for awhile thinking of the fact that we need to invent last names for ourselves," he says, flopping on his back. "For when we're in our non-native universes."

"Oh yeah," Teddy says. "It's going to take us awhile to get used to different names, isn't it?"

"So I was thinking we need to plan ahead; not just pick something random, you know? Because it's not like we can just change it after we've already introduced ourselves."

"True," Teddy says. "What did you come up with?"

"We need to pick the same name," James says, turning to meet Teddy's eyes and smiling wide. "That way if this works, long-term, and we decide to get married or whatever, we can each take the name and use it all the time, no matter the universe. And if we break up, well, it doesn't matter then, anyway."

Teddy's breath catches in his throat. "I don't want to break up," he says, putting his hand on James's shoulder and running it down his arm, over the curve of his arse.

"Me neither," James says, smiling, angling his body closer to Teddy's.

"So what you're suggesting," Teddy says, "is we introduce me to your parents as Smith, and we introduce you in my universe as Smith, and then if we ever get married we can both be Smith all the time."

"That's it!" James says, grinning, then wrinkles his nose. "Only not Smith. Maybe something that uses both our names, or something random?"

"Pupin," Teddy deadpans, nodding sagely, and James cackles.

"Nutter," James offers.

Teddy counters, "Topper."

James snorts. "But could we both be Topper at the same time?"

"We’re vers." But then Teddy shakes his head. "Teddy Topper is awful."

"Yeah, makes you sound like a furry," James says. "Piper."

"Piper is cute for like, a kneazle." Teddy thinks. "Lopper."

"I don't think this is working." James looks at the ceiling. "What would James, Remus, and Sirius say?"

"Or Lily," Teddy points out. "Hey. Evans. Too close?"

"Doubt my dad would let that slide without mentioning it," James points out. "Do you have a maiden name of a grandmother or something?"

"My dad's mom was Hope Howell. She was a Muggle." 

"Howell," James says, then laughs. "I like it. It works with the whole, er, canine vibe that your dad and Sirius had going on, too."

"James Howell?" Teddy asks.

James nods. "Perfect." He sits up and kisses Teddy hard on the lips. "Now we just need to figure out what you’ll look like here. Same height, please, to avoid Hemming Charms and leg cramps and you being a short arse."

Teddy laughs and pulls James down for a kiss.

***

An hour later (after laughing for ages over Teddy's numerous attempts at different appearances, figuring out how to slightly morph his larynx to make his voice lower, and after the laughter morphed into a tangle of limbs and urgent moans on the bed), they walk downstairs, past the twinkling Christmas tree and a parade of little nutcrackers that march around the house looking for nuts and singing Tchaikovsky.

"Is this going to be awkward?" Teddy whispers, not wanting Harry and Ginny to hate him. People always care what their lover's parents think of them, but this is even worse—they are _already_ his family, but he and James are the only ones who know that.

"Only if you let it!" James enthuses, grabbing Teddy's hand and walking into the kitchen. "Good morning!"

Harry, Ginny, Albus, and Scorpius are at the table. In the middle of the table is a giant platter of sausages and scrambled eggs, as well as a bowl of cut fruit and a tray of gingerbread witches. They look up and freeze at the sight of James having walked in with a strange man. Teddy hasn’t thought about it before, but he’s suddenly quite sure this isn't normal behaviour for James.

Ginny's fork pauses midway to her mouth. "Er, good morning, James and guest."

"This is Eddie Howell," James announces. _Eddie?!_ "Eddie, this is Ginny, Harry, my brother Albus, his not-husband Scorpius."

All of the time they spent this morning discussing surnames, and Teddy hadn't thought to discuss what his first name would be.

"Hello," Teddy says, and he's quite sure he has never felt this awkward in his entire life. "Ed, please, not Eddie." _Eddie_ is beyond the pale.

"Hullo," Albus mumbles around a bite of sausage; Scorpius raises a hand in an uneasy wave.

Harry, in what Teddy thinks is an incredible display of parenting composure, stands and shakes Teddy's hand. "Nice to meet you," Harry says, smiling. "Let me grab an extra plate."

James moves the two empty chairs together and sits, immediately loading his plate with eggs. 

Teddy walks to the mug shelf, wondering what mug he'll get today. He smiles, grabbing one with a picture of Medusa that says, "DON'T LOOK AT ME." Then he freezes; he's supposed to have just met these people and he probably shouldn't have helped himself to coffee in their kitchen.

"I should've asked first," Teddy apologises. "Is it alright if I have some coffee?"

"Of course!" Ginny says. "Anything you want, Ed."

Albus stares at Teddy with an assessing look that feels ominous. Teddy smiles at him, trying to imagine what Ed would do in this situation. He gives up, certain his smile is anything but casual, and puts his mug in the magicK cup.

"So Ed," Albus says, "what do you do?"

A feeling of relief washes over Teddy as the coffee spurts into his cup. Sure, he's being interrogated, but he can tell the truth. He turns and smiles at Albus. "I'm an Unspeakable. As you can probably guess, I can't say much more than that."

"Wicked," Scorpius says, wrapping his pale fingers around a mug decorated with dinosaurs. "I wanted to be an Unspeakable when I was a kid."

"Did you?" Teddy asks. "What did you end up doing?"

"I'm studying to be a veterinary healer," Scorpius says, smiling. 

"I hear that's a rough programme," Teddy says, grabbing his mug out of the coffeemaker and sitting next to James at the table.

"It is," Albus says, looking at Scorpius with admiring eyes, "but he's amazing at it."

"What do you do?" Teddy asks Albus, and on the one hand he hates asking people that question, but on the other, he's been dying to know what Albus is studying and he hasn't yet thought to ask James.

"The history of magical philosophy," Albus says, smiling, but then he sighs and leans back, bringing the front legs of the chair off the floor. "Which means I won't get a job."

"Sure you will," Ginny says, reaching a hand to pat Albus on the shoulder. "You're doing extremely well."

Scorpius grimaces and turns away from Ginny. He whispers to Teddy, "He probably won't. There are no jobs." 

"You'll figure it out, baby bro," James says encouragingly. "You can write books when you finish."

"You can't just…write a book," Albus says. 

"Well, _you_ can," James says, waving his fork. "You're Albus Potter. People would buy it."

"I don't want people to buy it because I'm a Potter!" 

"Well of course you don't," James says, "but what's the point of having our lives messed up by all this fame if we can't even use it to our advantage? That's how you can stick it to the man."

At this, Albus looks up. "What do you mean?"

"You write a book criticising the system, and then use the system to sell it. You undermine it while profiting from it!"

Albus considers this. "Yeah, that's true. I could do that."

"What you should do," Teddy says, "is write those popular books they sell in Flourish & Blotts that are like, _The Philosophy of Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle._ That'd sell huge. Or even _The Philosophy of Doctor Who._ "

Albus narrows his eyes and stands. "Alright, James, Ed, can I talk to you outside for a second?"

Shit. Did the _Doctor Who_ reference give it away? Ed Howell could be interested in Doctor Who! 

James squeezes Teddy's hand under the table and says, "Sure!" He pulls Teddy up and out the back door, Scorpius following them without comment.

"Right," Albus says, crossing his arms over his chest once they're a good distance from the house. He pulls his wand and casts a Privacy Charm. "Is someone going to tell me why Teddy is pretending to be a stranger? Or why Teddy and James are apparently fucking?"

Scorpius's mouth drops open. He raises a hand to cover it, eyes alight and flitting between James and Teddy. "Ohhhhh fuck," he titters. "Mates. What—how?! Why."

James smacks Albus on the arm. "How the fuck did you know?!"

"Don't turn this on me!" Albus says. "You're the one fucking our married godbrother!"

"Four times last night," Scorpius adds. "If I'm remembering correctly."

"Fuck me," Teddy murmurs. "No, look—I'm not married to Brianna. I'm—" His mouth moves, but no sound comes out. "The vow."

Scorpius squints his eyes. "You really are an Unspeakable."

"Yes," Teddy says. "So this is going to be impossible to explain right now."

"Oooh!" Scorpius says, wrapping an arm around Albus's waist. "But we're really good at charades. Go on."

"Wait," Teddy says. "Did you two take those TTRAs I left you with yesterday?"

"Yeah," Albus says, confused. "We got 17. I mean, we each got 17."

"They passed," Teddy says, turning to James.

"They passed!" James says, grabbing Teddy's hands and dancing around in a circle. "They passed, they passed!"

"How the fuck is that relevant?" Albus asks, annoyed. Then, "Are you fucking _time travellers?!_ "

"No!" James says. "We're—" His moving lips fall silent. He turns with excitement to look at Teddy. "Fucking wicked! That's the first time the vow shut me up!"

Teddy laughs, trying to remember a time that the Arcanum Vow felt like anything but a nuisance. "We can bring them in to see Nettles, get them cleared to discuss, er, us."

"Tell us now," Albus demands. "I'm not under a vow. Let me, uh, spell it out with an alphabet? Or I could go Legilimens."

"Al," Scorpius says firmly. "That is a bad idea. I'm not going to let you do that. You know what happened last time. But we can figure this out! We had to take the Time Travel Receptivity Assessment, and Teddy is an Unspeakable."

"But he didn't travel through time," Albus says, tilting his head. "Did you travel through space?"

"Sort of," Teddy says, then has an idea. "Er, remember when the Doctor was trying to repair the TARDIS in 'Inferno'?"

Albus and Scorpius gasp. "You travelled sideways in time!" Scorpius hisses.

"Yes," Teddy says, relieved. 

James looks between them with amusement. "Well, look at that. _Doctor Who_ is finally worth something."

Albus scowls. "Shut up, _James._ So you’re from a different universe! Holy shit!"

Scorpius turns away from the sibling squabbling. "So in your universe—you're not married?"

"No, I'm a single Unspeakable," Teddy says, but then James gives him a look and he amends, "I mean, I _was_ single before I got with James. I have a flat in London. My parents are alive. My godfather has no children."

Albus stops trying to flick James's shoulder. "Your parents are alive?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck," Albus says. 

"How did you know it was me?" Teddy says, concerned. It's too late to change his appearance much, but they could maybe tweak it without Harry and Ginny noticing.

Albus shrugs. "You walked over to the mugs exactly like you did a few weeks ago, and you were looking at James the way you did then. And the _Doctor Who_ , but you gestured when you said that and it drew my attention to your hands."

"Fucking _hands_ ," Teddy says. "How do you even know what my hands look like that well?"

"Albus is very observant," Scorpius says. "But yeah, change your hands."

While Teddy does that, James turns to them and says, "So don't blow our fucking cover! Teddy needs a permanent alias for this universe. Mum and Dad failed the fucking TTRA, so we can't tell them. So he needs to be Eddie."

" _Ed,_ for the love of Helga," Teddy says, wincing and inspecting his new hands. He gives Ed a moon tattoo under his left thumb. "If you call me Eddie I'm going to call you Jimbo. Eddie sounds like something out of an American film."

"Oh," Albus says, sniggering. "That it does. Because of Cousin Eddie in _Christmas Vacation_. Dad loves that film."

James laughs and hollers, "Shitter's full!" Albus honks a laugh, bending over at the waist.

"What the fuck?" Scorpius breathes, laughing as he looks between the two Potters. 

"I don't know," Teddy says, but he's smiling.

"We can watch it tonight," James says, still laughing. "It's nearly Christmas. Speaking of, it's cold as fuck out here. Can we go back in?"

"Yeah," Albus says.

"Just do not tell Mum and Dad! This is Ed Howell, my new boyfriend, and they need to like him."

"Alright!" Albus grumbles. "Fine. And later you will tell us the rest of what's going on?"

"Yeah, once we can get them to clear you," Teddy says. 

"So it was you who showed up on Halloween," Albus says, scrutinising Teddy.

"Yeah," Teddy says with a smile.

"So that's why you were being so fucking weird," Albus says, turning to James.

"Shut up."

They head back inside. James grabs Teddy's hand to inspect it. He points at the moon tattoo. "To remind you that you're still you?"

Teddy reaches an arm around James's shoulders and squeezes. "Yep."

James smiles, leaning into him, then whispers, "Think Al and Scorp will ever find out about Harry and Draco?"

Teddy laughs. "I dunno. What do you think they'd think?"

James shakes his head. "I have a pretty good imagination, but even I am having trouble coming up with an answer for that."

The four trudge back into the kitchen, rubbing their hands together to warm up, and reclaim their places at the table.

"Everything okay?" Harry asks, eyebrow raised. 

"Yep!" Albus says, and Harry squints at him with suspicion.

"I have some big news," James announces, smiling when everyone looks up at him. "I'm quitting the team."

Of course James couldn't ease them into it; he just has to out with it. Teddy tries not to laugh at the pandemonium that follows, the chorus of _WHAT?s_ and _No!s,_ the parental concern on Harry's and Ginny's faces, the way that Albus's and Scorpius's faces seem to be saying _You're moving too fast!_

James smiles while they talk at him. Eventually he takes a bite of sausage, chews, swallows, and sets his fork down. "Are you going to let me tell you why?"

Harry smiles with exasperation. "Alright, why?"

"I've been accepted into Unspeakable training," he says with a wide smile, and Teddy wants to shout with how happy he feels watching this. "That's how I met Ed. I've been thinking about it for awhile, and I'm really excited."

Ginny jumps up, abandoning her mug (that has a Christmas tree and says SHIT IS LIT), and throwing her hand over her mouth. "An Unspeakable?! Jamie!" She runs around the table and throws her arms around him, rocking back and forth with her cheek pressed against his. "That's incredible!"

Harry is up, too, hugging James from the other side, and Albus and Scorpius turn to look at Teddy with identical looks of astonishment. Teddy shrugs at them with a smile. James becoming an Unspeakable is really more about James than it is about Teddy. Teddy didn't get him the job; he only introduced him to it.

"James is incredibly promising as an Unspeakable," Teddy says, trying to play the part of Ed as best he can, which is odd, because Ed is him. He figures it'll be easier once he has a chance to form relationships with Harry and Ginny.

They turn to look at him and smile. "Will you be his boss?" Harry asks.

"Er, no," Teddy says, but then he turns to James. "Wait, will I?"

James shrugs. "I guess? But they already know we're a couple. Which we are, by the way, if I didn't say that yet? Ed and I. Me and Ed. We're together."

"Well you didn't tell us in so many words, but I think the entire house heard you last night," Ginny says, a Weasleyish tease to her expression. "But we put up a Silencing Charm on our room after the first bit, so..."

James wrinkles his nose. "Sorry?"

"Never apologise for enjoying life!" Harry says, slapping James on the back but then wincing as he realises how strange that is, given the context. "But Jamie, maybe some permanent Soundproofing Charms on the walls?"

"It's okay," James says, waving his hand. "I'm moving in with Ed."

The kitchen devolves into chaos again; Ginny and Harry issue a stream of _Too soon, There's such a thing as too Gryffindor, One major life change at a time, Are you sure?_

James meets Teddy's eye and grins. 

For the first time in this universe, everything is _right._ Teddy grins back.


	6. Epilogue

_31 October 2031_

Teddy wakes to a fist in his eye. "Fuck," he mumbles, trying to move closer to the edge of the bed, but he's already in danger of falling off. 

"Jamie," he hisses, trying to keep his voice low, poking James in the shoulder. 

"Huh?" James says with a jump. "Huh? I'm awake."

"Shhh," Teddy says, "just, scoot over, I'm falling off the bed."

James blinks, looking at the bed between them. The wee witch, who somehow takes up half the bed despite her diminutive size, is sound asleep, her tiny thumb in her mouth. James scoots back, but he isn't the one taking up Teddy's space. "Should I try to move her?"

Teddy sighs. "If she wakes up, we'll get even less sleep than if I fall off the bed."

"Come on this side," James says, eyes falling closed as his head hits the pillow. "There's plenty of room."

Teddy swings his legs off the side, trying to keep his movement as un-bouncy as possible, and slowly stands, one eye on Tabitha, ready to freeze at her slightest movement. But she doesn't stir, and he manages to stand up. He grabs his wand off the bedside table and checks the Co-sleeping Charms, which keep the blankets off her and the sheets snug beneath her, and the Monitoring Charms, which will sound an alarm if she stops breathing or is otherwise in distress—they're good. He's not sure why he checked; he knows James set them before bed. But being a parent has really driven home the lesson that life isn't always about what's logical.

Teddy puts his wand down and walks around the bed to James's side, holding the blankets up and sliding behind him under the covers. He scoots closer, until his knees, groin, chest press against James's sleepy warmth, and throws an arm over him. "Warm."

"Go to sleep," James murmurs, scooting backward, pressing their bodies closer together. But then he stiffens slightly. "Did you check if her Warming Charm is working?"

"Shit, no," Teddy mumbles into James's ear. "Sorry."

"Wand," James says, holding his hand up with his eyes closed. 

Teddy twists around, back cracking, and groping around on the table until his fingers close around the wood of James's wand. He untwists, slapping the wand into James's outstretched hand. 

James pushes himself up on one arm and mutters, " _Temperatura_."

Teddy falls to the side, asleep, only to be woken a second later by James settling back down and dragging Teddy's arm back over his torso. Teddy presses his head into James's neck and whispers, "I love you."

"Mmmphghhh," says James.

***

"Ow."

Teddy opens his eyes to find his head pressed into James's hair. "What?" he mumbles, closing his eyes again.

"Tabitha Hypatia Howell," James says in a stern tone that is belied by a yawn that makes him pause halfway through, "you may not wake me up by pinching me."

Teddy snorts and falls forward on his belly when James moves away. "Let's let Dad sleep more, shall we? We have more energy than he does. You can make me coffee."

Teddy smiles, half asleep again already, and then winces as he feels his hair grasped in a tiny iron grip. 

"Give Dad a kiss, Tibby!" 

Teddy opens one eye. James is holding Tabitha over him like an airplane, lowering her down atop him. She licks his cheek; well, close enough. Teddy smiles. "Love you, Tibby Tibba." She smiles, her fine neon-pink hair framing her face. 

"Okay, let go of Dad's hair now. That's it. Let's go. I'll let you push the button on the coffee grinder."

Teddy smiles as he hears the baby giggle and falls back into unconsciousness.

***

" _EDDIE!"_

Teddy jumps, flying up from his recumbent position with his hand on his chest, heart pounding rapidly. 

James's Labrador Patronus opens its jowls and says, "Wake up or we'll be late to the party."

Teddy runs a hand through his hair and stands, making a quick stop in the loo before walking to the sitting room. James is lying on the floor; Tabitha is repeatedly climbing onto his back, waiting for James to jiggle her off, then climbing back on. She looks up and sees Teddy, then crawls over at top speed. Tonks says she'll be walking soon.

"Tabitha!" Teddy cries and scoops her up, delighting in her baby giggles and the way she nuzzles her little head into his chest. "You alright there, Jamie?"

James turns his head, pillowing it on his hands, and smiles. "We're good."

"Do you want more coffee?"

"Do you have to ask?"

Teddy laughs and carries Tabitha into the kitchen. "Let's make Daddy some coffee, Tibby."

"Da!" she says and claps her hands.

"I'm going to put you in your seat, okay?" Teddy says, and she grabs his ear tight, like she will pull it off if he tries to put her down. "I just want two hands to make the coffee, then I'll pick you back up, okay?"

Her lip quivers in a warning of imminent distress; her hair turns purple, then a sad blue.

"Okay, okay, I'll hold you! Don't worry. I hear you. You don't want me to put you down." 

She slowly starts to calm down, hair returning to its happy pink, as Teddy jostles her on his hip and tries to make coffee with one hand. "It's your first Samhain," Teddy says. "We should sing a song! But I don't know any Samhain songs. We should've asked Auntie Narcissa." 

Tabitha smiles and smooshes her face in Teddy's cheek, which is her recent achievement—a performance of a kiss, never mind she doesn't have the puckering motion yet.

"Muah!" Teddy says, kissing her back. "Oh, I know what to sing. _You think you're quite the wizard, got me under your spell, But guess what, Mister Wizard, you don't know me so well!"_

She stares at him without amusement, her pink hair curling around her ears, as if to shame him for singing Celestina Warbeck. 

"Hey Jamie," Teddy calls, "little miss doesn't like Celestina Warbeck!"

"Oh, Tibbs," James cries. "Don't become a music snob like Uncle Albus."

Teddy gets the coffee made and manages to hold Tabitha on his left while he uses his wand to Levitate their drinks, including a bottle, into the sitting room.

James pushes up on his arms and jumps his feet forward into a squat, then stands, grabbing his mug of coffee out of the air. "Thanks."

James, at twenty-seven, has shown that his earlier worry about losing his athleticism was unfounded, though one of the hardest parts of his becoming an Unspeakable had been learning how to get his energy out. Mysteries Quidditch practice and Ministry League games are great, but not enough. After awhile, James realised how to make it work: a run before work, weight training during lunch, yoga before bed. If he skips the yoga, he gets twitchy and can't sleep. Teddy joins in the yoga most days, and now Tabitha joins him on most runs in her Levitating pram.

"Did you go on a run?" Teddy asks, looking at the clock as Tabitha slithers out of his grip and crawls to the table.

"Yeah," James says, taking a sip. "Do you want to finish up the report or hang with little T?"

"Which report is due Monday?" Teddy asks, trying to remember. They're in the middle of three.

"The one on retroactive causality and incongruity minimisation."

Tabitha pulls herself up to stand at the table and grabs her bottle, bringing it to her mouth. She won't let anyone feed her a bottle anymore, unless she's sleepy.

"You do it," Teddy says. "You're better than me at explaining that. But make sure you don't forget to reference the results of our banana experiment."

James reaches over to clink their coffee mugs. "Cheers. I can probably finish it before we have to go to Mum and Dad's. Can I give the report a cheeky banana title?"

"Please do," Teddy laughs.

Over the years, it's become harder and harder to rattle Nettles. He and James have an ongoing campaign to make the man splutter and/or blush at least once a month. Banana innuendo in the title of a report might do it; hard to say. Nettles sometimes surprises them; he didn't blink an eye when James showed up to a Mysteries picnic wearing a t-shirt that said, "MY PEN IS HUGE" with dubious kerning and a large graphic of a pen; on the other hand, Nettles flushed and had to leave the office when he saw Teddy's framed copy of their _Witch Weekly_ cover (from James's universe), on which Ed stands facing the camera, head tipped back with eyes closed and a beatific smile, reaching an arm up and behind to touch James, who is standing behind him, one arm wrapped around Teddy's collarbone and the other reaching around his stomach, fingers digging into the flesh. The cover reads _POTTER TAKEN_ , and Teddy loves it because the words contrast with the feeling of the picture, which is that Teddy is the one being taken. Perhaps that's why it shocked Nettles so badly. Teddy isn't sure whether banana innuendo will do it or not.

James stands with his coffee and leans down to kiss Teddy on the corner of his mouth. "Start getting her ready for a nap in like fifteen minutes?"

"Sure thing," Teddy says, then smiles and kisses back. "Wish me luck."

"Don't take no for an answer," James says, standing and looking at Tabitha, who puts the bottle down and plops backward on her bum. She grabs an old _Prophet_ off the table and crinkles it in her tiny, wet hands. "If she doesn't sleep the party will be a nightmare. Do you hear that, Tabitha?"

She smiles, showing gums. "Da!"

James walks down the corridor to the office and locks the door, which causes five minutes of "Da! Da!" upset, but the baby calms down when Teddy sits on the floor and starts ripping the newspaper into little shreds for her.

"Da!" she says, clapping her hands, and Teddy grins. He wonders what will happen when she gets bigger and harder to impress.

A nappy change and five ripped newspaper sheets later, Teddy settles with her in the comfy armchair with the cushioned arms—much more comfortable than their rocking chair, in his opinion—and cuddles her close for a nap. She brings her thumb up to her mouth and sucks, eyes resolutely open and looking at Teddy. "Shhh," he says, closing his eyes in a wild hope that she'll imitate him. When he peeks, she's grinning at him. She takes her thumb out of her mouth and says, "Da!" 

"It's time for sleep," Teddy says. "I'm going to sing you a song."

She puts her thumb back in her mouth and sucks, watching him carefully.

" _When all is dark and there’s no light, Lost in the deepest star of night, I see you_." 

She smiles around her thumb, tongue visible.

"Shhh," Teddy whispers. " _Your hands are shaking baby, You ain’t been sleeping lately, There’s something out there, And it don’t seem very friendly does it?_ " 

He knows the Weird Sisters is an odd choice for bedtime song, but his mum always sang him this song when he was a baby. And it works—her eyelids droop.

" _If I could help you I would help ya, But it’s difficult._ " 

Her eyes close, mouth still sucking. The vibrant pink of her hair fades slowly into a strawberry blonde, a colour that Teddy supposes is her natural colour, though he never sees it unless she's asleep. He sings softly for another few minutes until he's sure she's asleep. "Now what?" he murmurs, looking around, stuck underneath her sleep-heavy body. After a moment of consideration, he decides it's worth the risk of moving her. He casts an Anti-Jostling Charm and stands carefully, patting her bum when she stirs. 

He manages to transfer her to the cradle Arthur Weasley made, then looks around. Right. Clean-up.

***

Three hours later, they're late. Teddy is in boxers and one sock, holding a crying baby who’s wearing nothing but a nappy. James is attempting to shower, but Tabitha has decided that dads who go into the shower must never be coming back, because she cried all through Teddy's shower and shows no indication of stopping during James's.

"He's right there, see?" Teddy says, attempting to jiggle her while putting on his other sock.

"I'm right here, Tibby!" James says, sticking his hand out of the curtain, but that just makes her cry louder. "So," James continues, shouting over the crying and the water, "the results from the data analysis are even better than we thought."

"Good," Teddy says, distracted. He almost falls into the sink. "Let's sit down, sweet girl. I'm going to take you a tiny bit farther from Dada." Her cries intensify as he sits on the bed. In her rage, she grabs his nipple. "Ow! I can't let you hurt me, Tabitha."

He hasn't worn the nipple piercing since she learned a pincer grip.

James shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, reaching for a towel and drying himself off. "I think we should ask Albus about the ethical question."

"About the elitism inherent in IU travel and the question of who has a say in how the multiverse gets meddled with?" Teddy breathes a sigh of relief as Tabitha stops crying and slithers out of his grasp to crawl towards James.

"Yeah," James says, finishing towelling his hair. "I don't think we can ignore it. Not with the panel that Nettles put together."

"Yeah, good idea. I'll try to remember to ask Al about it later." Albus is cleared for consultation with the Unspeakables, getting one-off clearances here and there.

"Okay," James says, dropping the towel and leaning down to pick up the baby. She pats her hand on his chest and looks at Teddy with a look that reads something like _Was that so hard?_

“Are you seeing Coffey tomorrow?” James asks, sticking his tongue out at Tabitha.

“Yeah, at two. Who's going to be there today?" Teddy asks, pulling on a pair of jeans.

"Mum, Dad, Al, Scorp, Lily, many Weasleys. From work, Nettles and Bev, I think; some of Al and Scorp's friends."

"Okay," Teddy says, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He'd been hoping he could go as Teddy, but with all those people there, it'll be Ed. Which is fine, really. A minor inconvenience.

It had been harder when Harry and Ginny didn't know, which had been for the first year or so after James started Unspeakable training. James didn't like lying to his parents and alternated between feeling like it wasn't really lying at all and feeling convinced it was a terrible betrayal. Teddy didn't like pretending in places that felt like home—which Harry and Ginny's house did. He has no trouble looking like Ed when he's in public in Universe J, as they call it; he has no trouble being Ed when he's chatting with people about work or going to extended Weasley birthday parties or James's Gryffindor pub nights. But in the house, eating dinner, leaving the bedroom in the morning—he hated that he had to look like a different person. 

Of course, even then, it was the best choice, because he would put up with many more sacrifices to be with James. 

But one morning they'd been staying the night at Harry and Ginny's, Teddy had awoken to James's mouth at his ear, asking for permission to suck him off. Teddy nodded sleepily and James's hot mouth enveloped his cock; Teddy threw his head back in bliss and then James had lube, Teddy had been _yesfuckyes I love you Merlin fuck, yes!_ And then the door had opened to reveal Ginny, who had forgotten they were there, looking for a pair of her joggers, which were hanging in the closet.

They had all frozen: James mid-bob, Teddy mid-moan, Ginny eyes wide, mouth open. After a long stretch of silence, during which Teddy mentally catalogued all the ways he could think of to die, she'd screamed, " _Harry!_ " Then chaos ensued during which neither James nor Teddy were able to attempt an explanation due to the Arcanum Vow. In the end, they'd had to Floo Nettles. Nettles appeared in the Potter's sitting room, on his day off, in a tracksuit, pinching his nose and muttering, "This is my life now."

Harry and Ginny took the news well, all things considered. They had failed the TTRA, sure; but they’d also known Ed/Teddy for over a year at this point, which helped to soften the blow. (The Unspeakables are still working to test the validity of using the TTRA as an assessment for universe travel; it’ll be ages before they have enough data to draw any firm conclusions.) It only made things weird with Harry and Ginny for a short while. That short period of weirdness was totally worth it, as it resulted in Teddy being able to go to their house looking like himself and responding to the correct nickname.

But not with a large group. He morphs to look like Ed, and Tabitha giggles, pointing. "Da!" Her hair turns dark brown to match Ed's. He'd been worried that she wouldn't understand Ed and Teddy are the same person, but she, somehow, has no trouble understanding. He and James speculate that it’s because she’s a metamorphmagus—or that she can recognise her dad’s magic, in addition to his appearance. They have a meeting with Nettles set up next month to discuss what measures need to be taken to make sure Tabitha doesn't somehow blow their cover, but Nettles doesn't seem worried, so Teddy's trying not to stress it. Worst case scenario, James thinks, they'll put her under a Vow.

"Where's the costume?" James, still naked, asks between blowing raspberries on Tabitha's cheek.

"My dad gave it to me the other day," Teddy says, spinning to look around the room. "I think it's in my work bag." In his search, he spots James's pants on the bed and throws them across the room to him.

Teddy runs down the hall to their home office and finds the costume. When he gets back to the bedroom, Tabitha is Levitating in mid-air, waving her arms delightedly, while James pulls his pants on. Teddy gestures at her and raises an amused eyebrow.

James shrugs. "I didn't want to put her down."

"Da!"

"Lemme put my shirt on, Tibby," Teddy says, smiling at her waving arms. "Then I'll hold you."

"You're flying!" James says, pulling an orange t-shirt on. "Just like Da! Are you going to be a Chaser, Tibby Tibba?" 

She squeals and throws a fist.

"A Beater!" James cries, grabbing a jumper and giving her a high-five. "Uncle George will be so happy!"

"Oh," Teddy says, pulling a striped shirt from the wardrobe and inspecting it for a moment, trying to determine if it is his or James's. "I forgot to tell you. Scorpius wants to know if we want to go hiking tomorrow."

James scrunches his nose. "Can we convince them to go running? Or rock climbing?"

"You want to go rock climbing with an infant?"

"More than I want to go hiking."

"Scorp says hiking is their only offer insofar as exercise goes."

"Fine," James sighs. "Do we have some of Draco's Bug-B-Bygone?"

"Yeah," Teddy says, buttoning up the shirt and pulling out the costume. It looks like a mass of brown fabric; he has no idea where the head is meant to go. "How is this thing supposed to work?"

James holds up the costume and turns it around a few times. "I think that's supposed to be the roots."

Teddy grabs Tabitha out of the air and she leans into his shoulder. He smiles at her. "Okay, short stuff, we are going to put on your costume!"

James holds the costume out and they manage to get her into it, marvelling at the ingenious design Remus used to make it. Her legs and arms become roots, but the body is comfortable, like a pair of brown pyjamas. It has a hood, which James pulls up over her pink hair, and attached to the hood is a plume of green leaves. 

She smiles, and it's the fucking cutest thing Teddy has ever seen.

"Well," James says. "That's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen."

"And when she cries," Teddy says, "it will be on theme."

"Do you have our costumes?" James asks.

Teddy pulls out the earmuffs and hands him a pair.

***

They Sidestep, the suction of inter-universal travel pulls at them; the three hold onto each other for support as they land in a hidden corner of Harry and Ginny's garden. Tabitha pulls at her ear after they land. The Halloween party is early this year because they wanted to have it before Tabitha's second nap, and though the decorations seem to be incomplete without a bonfire, it looks brilliant, and Harry has put up a little slide decorated with pumpkins. Teddy smiles at the way everything changes as it stays the same.

James, who is holding the baby, turns to look at Teddy. "Hey. It's been five years."

Teddy smiles, reaching an arm around James's back and pulling them closer. "You want to go back in time and prevent it from happening, do something different with your last five years?"

James puts a finger on his chin, as if considering, then turns and plants a sloppy kiss on Tabitha's cheek. "Not in this multiverse."

Teddy smiles. 

"Where's my grandbaby?!" shouts Harry, running over with arms outstretched.

"It's Grandpa Harry!" Teddy says, and Tabitha grabs for him. Once in his arms, her hands fly immediately up to his glasses. Harry squeezes her in a little hug and starts whispering something Teddy can't hear in her ear. She smiles, looking at him like he's the world, and Teddy grabs James's hand as Harry walks away. 

"Let's grab some drinks while she's with your dad," Teddy says.

They walk across the garden, and James gives him an assessing look. "You look good in earmuffs."

"Do I?" Teddy asks, grinning. "You, too. But you know you look good in anything."

James leans in to kiss Teddy's neck, then pulls back abruptly and says, "Is Albus dressed like a cow?"

Teddy turns. Albus is, indeed, wearing a cow costume. "God, I just hope Scorpius isn't dressed as a farm wizard come to milk him."

"Oh, wow," James says, pointing. "Scorp is the cowboy. Does he…ride him?"

Teddy cracks up. "But cowboys don't ride the cows, they ride horses."

"Are we really going to let those fools near our baby?" James asks.

"Cauldron, kettle," Teddy says. "We're definitely bigger fools than they are."

"How do you think that conversation went?" James asks. "Scorpius asks Al to dress up, Al says no, Scorpius says, 'I'll wear chaps,' Al suddenly agrees?"

Teddy snorts. "Probably. Or maybe Albus wanted to get Scorpius into the chaps and chose the cow costume strategically. It's really hard to tell with Slytherins."

"Let me hold my granddaughter," Ginny's voice threatens from across the garden, "or I _will_ hex you."

Teddy turns to find Harry holding the baby protectively to his chest while Ginny tries to reach in and pull her away. "I'm not done with my turn yet, Gin!"

"You know what occurs to me?" James comments, watching the good-natured argument.

"What?"

"We could take advantage of this." James gestures at his parents, who have been joined by Lily, who is peeking at Tabitha over Harry's shoulder, and Ron and Hermione, who are cooing over the costume in a way that Teddy thinks is not quite enthusiastic enough, given how sweet it is. James continues, "We could go upstairs."

Teddy meets James's eye and sees the heat there; he'd be surprised about the speed at which James just went from holding the baby to wanting to have sex, except they've been trying to have sex for _three days._ But between work, cosleeping, and baby care, it's been impossible. Last night they planned to fuck in the sitting room after Tabitha was asleep (and, of course, appropriately charmed against rolling off the bed, suffocating, and every other disaster that could befall a sleeping baby), but they'd both managed to fall asleep with her.

"Yes," Teddy says, grabbing James's wrist and walking towards the house.

"Hold your thestrals," James laughs, pulling back. "I still have the the nappies and the bottles. Hey Lily!"

Lily runs over, her long hair flying out behind her. She's got tinsel in her hair, and Teddy smiles, giving her a hug and a "Happy Halloween." But with no pleasantries, James says, "We want to go fuck while they've got the baby. Take the stuff?"

She gives her brother an unimpressed look, but then sighs and holds her hand out. James slings the strap over her hand. The changing bag is purple and pink floral and Teddy bought it in a fit of pique when a salesperson tried to sell him a "more masculine model."

"Thank you!" James says, and Teddy starts walking towards the house, tugging James's wrist. "I love you! I'll help you get laid soon!"

She crosses her arms, but smiles. "How exactly are you going to do that?"

"I dunno!" James says. "But I am an excellent wingperson!"

Teddy laughs as he opens the door and they walk quickly through the kitchen, into the sitting room, and up the stairs. The second they're in James's bedroom, which currently has a travel cot decorated with nifflers taking up almost all of the available floor space, Teddy closes the door and pushes James up against it, leaning into his space and breathing in his smell, his Jamesness. 

"You look sexy," Teddy breathes, pressing a kiss to James's neck.

"Fuck," James says, letting his head thunk against the door. "I did not understand how hard it was going to be to find time to fuck. If I had known," he pulls Teddy closer by the belt loops, "I would've had like, a lot of extra sex while she was gestating. To fill my stores."

"I don't think it works that way," Teddy murmurs against James's neck. He reaches for the hem of James's shirt, but pauses. "How much time do you think we have?"

"If I ward the door," James says, pulling off Teddy's earmuffs and then his own, throwing them on the floor, "we'll have as much time as we want."

Teddy laughs, dropping his forehead to James's head. "Fuck, I love you. I feel like we haven't seen each other, even though we spend all our time together."

"Yeah, because we haven't been alone," James points out. "In all seriousness,we probably have fifteen minutes before she starts crying and we can't concentrate on orgasms because our baby is screeching and we're too consumed with guilt to cast a Silencing Charm."

Teddy drops to his knees and fumbles with James's trousers. He looks up; James has his eyes closed, wide smile on his face, and Teddy wants to make James feel good. _Really good._ So good that James's brain drops all his nervous energy and forgets about the baby and the sleeplessness and the reports that are due and the experimental data they're trying to collect that no one else can help them with and the challenges of raising a metamorphmagus across two different universes. Teddy pushes James's trousers down, grasps his cock, and takes it into his mouth. They're rushing—James isn't even half hard yet. Teddy sucks, relishing the gasp James makes, and enjoys the sensation of James's cock hardening inside his mouth.

When he’s idle, or bored, Teddy finds himself thinking about this—about how fast he can turn James into a trembling, babbling mess. He finds himself half asleep in bed watching James brush his teeth naked, thinking to himself, "I could touch three places on that body and make that dick get twice as long." He finds himself in meetings, ignoring Nettles's monologuing, staring at James, thinking, "I could slide to the floor and use only my mouth to make him scream." He finds himself zoning out when he's watching telly by staring at James's arse in his workout gear, thinking, "I know what that arse _tastes_ like and exactly how to move my fingers and tongue to make him incoherent." He finds himself looking at James at Harry and Draco's dining room table, thinking about how he knows exactly how James would look if he pushed him backward, knows exactly how to strip his own clothes off in a way that makes James touch himself, knows the look James would have on his face if Teddy straddled him, and how James's head would fall to the side, eyes closed, face blissful, if Teddy slowly slid down onto his cock.

"So good," James breathes, scraping his fingers into Teddy's hair. Teddy looks up at him, and smiles to see the way James is looking at him as if the sight of Teddy sucking his cock is a brilliant thing that he doesn't want to miss. Teddy reaches for James's balls, grabbing and tugging as he bobs his head, twisting tongue and pressing lips.

Teddy doesn't think about fucking James so much when it's just the two of them, because James is so vibrant and alive that Teddy is never bored. His mind doesn't wander to the bedroom when they're an hour deep in conversation about the design of their next experiment. He doesn't think of cock when they're learning how to ski, falling over into a laughing pile of snowy limbs. He doesn't think about licking nipples when James is shirtless, feeding Tabitha mushy peas, and they're all laughing together as a little family. When they're doing things together, James fills up all available space in Teddy's brain in a way that makes Teddy forget that he could want anything else. He doesn't think of getting dicked down when playing Uno anymore, because he's content with the game, with James's antics, with the banterous back-and-forth of _Reverse_ and _Wild_ and _Take Two._

It's usually James who initiates sex. It's usually James who initiates everything. It's James who makes sure Teddy isn't bored. It was James who got them into home-brew butterbeer. It was James who decided to get them researching how to charm self-vanishing nappies. It was James who came up with the idea for their monthly Potter-sibling pizza night. It was James who got them into extreme planking in the Ministry. It was James who said, "Let's just have a baby now; fuck waiting." 

But it's not that Teddy is just along for the ride. Teddy reaches his left hand behind James, dragging the pads of his fingers down the cleft of the arse that was once featured (clothed) on the cover of _Witch Weekly_ 's Best Bum Issue. He massages, pressing into warm, yielding flesh as he continues bobbing his head.

"Merlin, fuck, Jesus sucking Circe's tits," James mutters, and if Teddy weren't so occupied he would laugh. "Harder, fuck," James hisses, then breaks off in a moan. "You're so—"

Teddy doesn't have any lube, so he's loath to penetrate, even though he _knows_ that's what James wants. He thinks about pulling off of James's cock to find some lube or to spit on his hand or something, but he also knows James's cock and he can tell from the way it feels on his tongue that James is really close, so instead he presses a knuckle against James's hole—James moans, Teddy can feel the muscles yielding under his knuckle as James presses back—he presses his tongue firmly on the underside of James's cock, pressing forward with his lips as much as he can and dragging his tongue over the glans.

James moans, his hips stuttering forward as Teddy's mouth fills with come, which Teddy swallows directly, easing up the suction but keeping the cock in his mouth as it pulses James's pleasure.

A few breaths later, James, breathing heavily, reaches under Teddy's chin and tilts his face up. "You can stop sucking my dick now."

Teddy pulls off, sucking as he goes. "That's a sentence I never thought I'd hear you say." Teddy wraps a hand around James's cock at the base and squeezes, dragging his fist slowly to the tip to milk out the last of the come. Teddy licks the drop and kisses the tip, then sits back on his heels, letting go of genitalia and bum.

"Do you ever anthropomorphise sperm and wonder what their reaction is when they realise they're in an oesophagus?" James asks.

Teddy smiles. "Oh no, not the acciiiiiiiiid!" he cries in a high-pitched voice. "I'm mellllllting!"

James snorts and leans down to pull Teddy to a stand. "We don't have time for both so you have to choose: rimjob or blowjob. Or honestly, whatever you want that I can accomplish in seven minutes."

"You know that if you're offering a rim job," Teddy says, leaning down to kiss James's dimple, "I'm accepting the rim job." 

James flashes a wolfish grin, grabs Teddy's shoulders, and turns him around. Teddy feels a hand in between his scapulae push him forward and he walks towards the bed, but he trips on the travel cot and ends up knocking the damn thing over, the tiny charmed mobile of nifflers chasing gold falling apart in a crash.

"Shit!" Teddy says.

"Ignore it," James instructs, coming up directly behind him and breathing hot words into his ear. "I don't care about anything right now except burying my tongue in your arse."

"Shit," Teddy breathes, and James pushes him face first onto the bed. The bed dips as James climbs on, straddling Teddy's arse and dragging his hands down his back. James casts a tingly Cleaning Charm, and fuck, Teddy's hard already. James lowers himself down on top of Teddy and rolls his hips, pressing his hot body against Teddy's arse and back; his motions drag Teddy's arousal to the surface.

James rises onto his knees and reaches under Teddy's belly to unfasten his trousers, then pulls them off. "On your knees," he says, and Teddy complies automatically.

Teddy gasps when James licks a broad stripe up the cleft of his arse, but then he feels James sit back on his ankles, rummaging for something behind the bed. 

"Hand," James says. Teddy smiles; James has good ideas. He reaches back and feels the warm tingly wetness of _Slyck: A Personal Lubricant for Witches and Wizards Who Like it Spicy,_ a product that James and Teddy mock at every possible opportunity despite being loyal customers. Teddy brings his hand back, trying not to drip on the bedding, and wraps his hand around his cock, starting a slow stoke.

His hand falters and his breath hitches when he feels James's tongue, _hot wet suck,_ and Teddy starts to say _shit_ but all that comes out is "ssssssssssssssghhhhhhhghhhh." His face is pressed into the bed, eyelids uncomfortably turning inside out, and he does not care at all because James, James, James's tongue pressing inside, James's fingers massaging his perineum. James pulls his mouth away and blows, cool air on wet skin goosebumps, then fingers breach hole and Teddy cries, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck" as James presses practiced fingers around his prostate and continues licking everywhere his fingers aren't. 

At first, they each had trouble coping with Teddy looking like Ed; James didn't want to kiss Ed; he didn't want to fuck Ed; Teddy would do double-takes in front of mirrors. But with time, Ed has become like a different pair of clothes, or a different haircut. James has nearly as much history with Ed as he does with Teddy, and it's got to the point where James often calls Teddy "Ed" even when they're in Teddy's universe. It is his name, after all, James points out, and people get in the habit of using nicknames with repetition. While they still use Ed/Teddy to refer to the different appearances, Ed and Teddy have ceased to be different people, at least for Teddy and James. It'd be nice not to have to use multiple appearances, sure, but it's ceased to feel weird. It's funny how, with time, people get used to even the oddest of situations. Like James sticking his tongue in Ed's arse. Not that Teddy morphs his arsehole any different. Ed and Teddy have the exact same arsehole.

Teddy starts to stroke his cock again, moving in tandem with James's mouth and fingers, overwhelmed as always by the way that James's enthusiasm during sex is palpable, like an almost-suffocating blanket pressing on him from all directions. Teddy feels the heat pooling at the base of his spine and in his balls and he couldn't slow it down if he wanted to because James is dragging it from him, the _hot white pleasure spark_ lighting him up like a candle wick. Teddy moans; James presses harder with tongue and finger; Teddy ejaculates. James doesn't realise at first, continuing his ministrations, and it's immediately too much. Teddy leans forward. "Jamie, stop."

James pulls back, mouth first, then fingers carefully sliding out. 

Teddy breathes, his face tingles, as he comes back to a calm, pleasantly sated state. "What do you think," he says after a minute, "the sperm think when they realise they're only heading for a duvet?"

With a glomp, James plops onto Teddy's back, wrapping an arm around Teddy's chest and squeezing. "I love you," he murmurs.

Through the window, a shrieking cry.

Teddy looks at his watch and starts to laugh. "Right on cue."

For a moment, James doesn't move off Teddy's back, despite the crying. "Remember when we used to fuck for hours?"

"I'm not complaining about that sex," Teddy says, pulling his face away from its smushed position. "My face is tingling. I'm definitely not complaining."

James laughs and stands up. " _I can't feel my face when I'm with you, but I love it_!" he sings. " _I can't feel my face when I'm with you_!" He grabs his wand to Vanish the come. 

Teddy stands, laughing, and dances to James's singing as he pulls on his trousers.

They get themselves put back together (including earmuffs) and are running down the stairs when Tabitha's shrieking cries stop. Teddy figures she's been handed back to Grandpa Harry or Uncle Albus, because the two of them are (to everyone else's chagrin) her favourites.

They walk into the sitting room and James stops short, Teddy walking straight into his back.

Ezekiel Nettles is holding Tabitha, and she's morphed herself a receding hairline. "And one time your daddy Lupin got himself stuck in the supply closet, yes he did! Because he forgot the protocol! And Zeke had to fill out three different forms to comply with the Worker Protection Act, yes he did!"

Tabitha smiles.

"Another time, it was a dark and stormy night, and Zeke was doing a routine check of Pensieve memories, standard after time and universe travel, you know, and I see your daddy Lupin in the memory, trying to snog someone from a different universe who didn't know his identity, yes he did! And then he left me to deal with it, and with an angry Potter, yes he did!"

Tabitha giggles, then looks up and sees her dads. "Da!" she cries, holding her arms out.

Teddy grins at her and trills, "Tibby!!!" She laughs, reaching her arms out farther and making grabby motions with her hands. Teddy takes her from Nettles and she presses her face into his cheek, mouth open, leaving a wet spot. "Muah!" Teddy says and kisses her back. "Did you see Grandpa Harry and Grandma Ginny and Uncle Nettles?" Teddy turns to their boss. "Thanks for holding her."

"No problem," he sighs. "It's my job description: clean up Lupin and Potter's messes."

"You should say, _the Howells' messes_ ," James corrects, and crouches down to blow a raspberry on Tabitha's belly.

"How can I know which one of you I'm talking about if I use Howell?" Nettles cries, throwing a hand up.

"You could use our first names," Teddy says reasonably.

Nettles harrumphs. "Your father said to tell you it's time to decorate gourds, Potter."

"Squash," James says.

"And you've got fluids on your sleeve," Nettles says, pointing to Teddy's arm. He raises his bushy eyebrows, turns, and walks outside.

"He loves us," James declares.

***

After bobbing for apples in a giant cauldron (with judicious use of Waterproofing Charms), Harry and Ginny recording a video message of everyone to send to Teddy and Brianna (Teddy excused himself to the other room, but James and Tabitha said ‘hi’), Ginny catching Albus with a cigarette when he'd supposedly quit, and Bev and their family winning a raucous game of croquet against Ron, George, Rose, and Hugo, Tabitha begins to yawn and rub her eyes. Teddy and James make their excuses, gathering all the baby paraphernalia and kissing everyone, promising to come back soon ("Yes, Tuesday for dinner, Dad, don't worry") and allowing Molly one last cuddle of her great-grandbaby ("The pink hair is such a nice change from the usual Weasley ginger, isn't it? But still quite close, isn't it?"), and Sidestep back to their flat.

For the first year, the Unspeakables had insisted that the veil could only be safely manipulated in the controlled environment of the lab in the Ministry. But after Teddy and James had made dozens of jumps, they decided it would be safe, unless proven otherwise, to give Teddy and James the ability to manipulate the veil on their own. That, plus ready stores of the potion (which Draco insists on being the one to brew) mean that Teddy and James now have much more latitude in their travels.

They land in their sitting room and Tabitha immediately starts to wail, as it's past time for a nap and she has trouble with the jumps on the best of days. Teddy and James snap into action, kicking off their shoes and getting ready to settle her down for a nap. Teddy morphs back to his usual body as James takes off Tabitha's costume. "You grab a bottle and I'll find the chapter we need to review." 

"Yeah, can you grab us a cup of water in case we get thirsty while she's trapping us?"

A few minutes later, they sit on the bed, propped up by pillows. James holds the baby, her head resting against his chest as she drinks a bottle. Teddy rifles through a giant folder of papers from work; they'd been tasked, as the multiverse's foremost experts in the multiverse, with writing a new chapter on inter-universal travel for the Unspeakable Code of Conduct. They'd received back an edited draft, and are supposed to read it through. Teddy finds the relevant pages and grabs a pen, shifting himself back into the pillows to get more comfortable.

"Can you hold her?" James asks, rubbing a hand over the side of her head. "I'm worried I'll get fidgety if she sleeps on me."

"Sure," Teddy says, "trade." He holds out the papers, secretly thrilled that he gets to cuddle his daughter. Teddy loves the feeling of her sleepy weight against his body, and he can't help thinking about how lucky he is to get to do it—knowing, as he does, that he, as a baby, in another universe, didn't get this, that Harry, in both, didn't either. But Tabitha gets parents and cuddles and love and Teddy suspects that he and James are being a little too first-time-parentish with her, but then again—why shouldn't they? 

Her hair slowly fades to strawberry blonde and her suckles change from hunger-satisfying to comfort-seeking. James casts the Cosleeping Charms. Teddy can't stop looking at her, and wonders if parents ever get over staring at their children when they're asleep. Sometimes he thinks he catches his parents looking at him like that, and he's thirty-four years old and no longer adorable.

James plants his feet on the bed and rests the papers on his knees. "Want me to read it aloud?"

"The perfect bedtime story for Tibby," Teddy says.

James snorts. "Okay, let me skip this opening section—they haven't really made any changes to that part."

_Protocol for working with the same person in multiple universes. If you will be interacting with the same person in two or more universes, you need to approach them as if they are two distinct people. It is not just that the person in one universe won't know information from another universe, it is that the entire course of their life has resulted in two distinct instances of their personality. It is not as if an acorn planted in one universe will result in the same tree in any universe; it is that the soil conditions, the weather, the climate, the ecosystem, everything around the acorn will affect the instantiation of the tree. The same with human beings, and with everything in different universes. As such, an Unspeakable operative will have most success when they approach a person in multiple universes with this in mind. "It's helpful," one Unspeakable reports, "to view the people as, say, identical twins: they are different people though they look the same. You have different relationships with each of them. It's helpful, if appropriate given the context, to think of them using two different names. For example, someone whom you think of as Mr Smith in one universe may be John in another."_

"Did we remember to add in Al's bit about the teleology?" Teddy asks.

"Oh yeah," James says. "Let me add that in…here. _In this sense, the multiverse can be viewed as disproving the doctrine of teleology, insofar as there is no single final form towards which things grow._ Good?"

"Sounds good," Teddy says. "Not crazy about the word _instantiation,_ but if they insist."

_Workplace safety hazards: Incongruity triggers. Being faced with an incongruous counterpart of someone or something from your universe can trigger a panic reaction, including a panic attack. Signs include tinnitus, trembling, increased heart rate, desire to flee. Protocol: first, cast a Calming Charm. Second, proceed outdoors, away from the trigger. Third, contact your travel coordinator at the department; they will take action to get you a break from the assignment._

"Add in the chocolate," Teddy says. 

"Oh yeah!" James starts scribbling.

The chocolate had been Remus's idea, of course. 

_It can be challenging to work in and maintain relationships between multiple universes. Rely on your assigned mentor, because a sympathetic ear and advice from a person who has been there is invaluable. The department has support systems in place for all sorts of outcomes, and trained Mindhealers with the new certification in inter-universal mental health. Remember, though, that the universe—the multiverse—is remarkably resilient and stable and so, in fact, are you. Human beings can adapt to inter-universal travel more easily than they can to time travel. You might find yourself in strange situations, but as one of our Unspeakables says, "There are strange situations even within one universe. My godfather has a father-in-law who has tried to kill him multiple times. We tolerate." Never hesitate to contact your travel coordinator if you feel that…_

Teddy closes his eyes, rests his head on James's shoulder.

***

"Muh!"

Teddy feels a finger on his hand. He opens his eyes. The sun is setting already; the solstice isn't far off, now. They've all three of them fallen asleep. James's head is tipped back, mouth open, papers everywhere.

Tabitha is awake, and she's poking Teddy's hand. "Muh!"

"Hmm? What's that, sweet girl?" She's pointing at the tattoo under his thumb. "Oh! Moon! Yes, moon! _James_!"

James jolts forward. "Huh—what?"

"Tibby just said 'moon'!"

Tabitha, sitting all the way up now, points again and says, "Muh!"

James turns to Teddy with a huge grin on his face. "Why do I feel so proud of one syllable?"

Teddy returns the grin. "Yes, it's moon! It's a moon, Tibby."

After a while of having the moon tattoo as Ed but not as Teddy, Teddy had started to feel like the moon was more him than Ed, or maybe that he _was_ Ed, and he had gotten it inked on permanently. He can still morph it away, of course, but it's there otherwise.

"What time is it?" James asks, yawning. "Fuck, I shouldn't have fallen asleep. We were supposed to finish these edits."

"Whatever," Teddy says. "We'll find time tomorrow. It's—five. Shit, we need to go."

"Where's the dress Draco bought?" 

"In the wardrobe. Where's the photo of us in the costumes?"

They rush around, stripping off clothes, changing Tabitha's nappy, and spelling a pair of tights onto her (they'd once tried to put tights on her by hand, but learned their lesson). Teddy rummages around for his nicest trousers and finds a black shirt that looks appropriately dark for the occasion, then grabs a jumper. James pulls out a preposterous set of dress robes he bought with the express purpose of wearing to the manor—he looks like Dumbledore, though James didn't buy the matching hat. Teddy laughs when James does a little turn and the robes spin out around him, but the truth is that, as always, James looks good in anything. They dress Tibby in the ruffly dress that Draco bought her and, rushing, Floo to the manor.

"You're late," a house-elf greets them, as Teddy grabs James's arm to stop from falling.

James shifts Tabitha on his hip. James always holds her when they travel, because Teddy's clumsiness makes him fall a non-trivial percentage of times he Floos, Apparates, Portkeys, or Sidesteps. Which is fine, so long as he's not holding an infant. James, with his preternatural athletic grace, tries to keep all three of them upright, but there's only so much one wizard can do. 

James gives the house-elf a skeptical look; James hadn't grown up interacting with house-elves, and he finds the whole thing retrograde and troublesome. He always wants to treat them respectfully, but he gets confused about the proper etiquette and ends up accidentally offending them, more times than not. 

"Are we in the ballroom?" Teddy asks.

"Yes," the elf says. "Motty will show sirs."

Tabitha looks at the elf and says, "Muh!"

The elf's eyes grow wide. "Motty, yes, miss."

Teddy is touched by the sweet encounter, but James turns to Tabitha as they walk down the corridor and whispers, "No fair, Tibba. He likes you more than me, and you haven't even put effort in."

Teddy smiles and slings an arm over James's shoulder. He smells the incense before they can see the door to the ballroom. It's a nostalgic smell for Teddy, made even more so since he and James have been coming together and James always smells of it when they leave Teddy will smell the clove and sage in James's hair, his face buried in it as they fuck, their bodies languid with wine and food.

When they enter the room, it's comfortingly familiar—the fire, the smell, the decorations. They walk inside, Tabitha looking around with wide eyes at all of the sights. "Happy first Samhain," James says, kissing her cheek, but she ignores him in favour of staring at the flames of the fire in the centre of the room.

Teddy's throat clenches, his love for these two people bubbling up in his chest. Tabitha is the first baby at these Samhain gatherings—ever, Teddy supposes. Because Narcissa started celebrating the old traditions when Draco was older, and Teddy didn't know Narcissa as a baby. It's like all these years of remembering the dead finally have a balance, a future.

"You okay?" James whispers.

Teddy nods, trying to pull himself together as his dad walks over. He's got elbow patches on his jumper, hands in his pockets, and a crinkly lines around his eyes as he smiles. He gives Teddy a hug first, which somehow strikes Teddy as lovely—Teddy still gets to have his dad, even if Remus also wants to see his granddaughter. Teddy squeezes Remus. "Hey Dad."

"How did the costume work out?" he asks, pulling back with a smile. "Did the fronds stay put?"

"Yes! It was incredible!" James says. "Ed, grab the photo. It's in my pocket."

Teddy reaches, trying to find the pocket, and sweet Merlin those ridiculous robes have enormous pockets. He eventually finds it and hands it to Remus, whose eyes light up with love and amusement. 

Remus chuckles, raising a hand to cover his mouth. He looks at Tabitha. "You, my dear, are the cutest thing I've ever seen." He holds his hands out, and James hands her over.

Remus doesn't blow raspberries or tickle or coo. He holds her high on his side and starts whispering with her; she looks directly at his face, engrossed in whatever he's saying, and Teddy smiles. They have secrets already, somehow, even though she can't yet talk.

Teddy and James walk farther into the room. Harry runs at them, Draco following behind at a more respectable pace. 

"Thank goodness you're here," Harry breathes, and Draco strides up behind him, hand on hip, looking put upon. "Draco wants to make a cauldron out of my _bones._ "

"That is not what I said," Draco drawls.

James's eyes flit back and forth between the two, amusement on his face.

"What I _said_ ," Draco clarifies, "is that I want to conduct an experiment on using bone marrow in cauldrons."

"As if that makes it better!" Harry says wildly.

"Bone marrow is the site of blood production," Draco explains, voice pedantic, "and it's possible that making an alloy of standard cauldron-grade metal with bone marrow could create a magical environment that is particularly suited to regenerative and health-promoting potions."

"You can have my bone marrow," James offers, upbeat.

Harry's mouth drops, as if he's been betrayed.

Draco considers this. "I appreciate that offer, James. I _want_ Harry's, because Harry's magic is strong and the man certainly has a talent for continuing life in the face of death. But I suppose if he won't consent…"

James grins.

"You're going to use it for blood magic, aren't you?" Teddy asks, fascinated despite instinctively agreeing with Harry.

Draco looks over his shoulder to see if anyone is listening, then nods. "Fuck yes I am. Imagine how well it will work? Not to mention what it might do for fertility potions and Adiuvi Fertilis." He raises an eyebrow and gives Harry a pointed look, knowing that Harry won't object if his experimentation has a good aim.

"Fine," Harry says, throwing a hand up. "You can have my marrow. But you're not extracting it with a bloody needle."

"A _needle?_ " Draco asks. "Do I look like a sadist?"

Harry makes a face like he's about to reveal way more information about Draco than Teddy has ever wanted to know. Teddy cries, "Well then! Perfect! A new cauldron to experiment with!"

But his redirection doesn't work; Draco looks at Harry with predatory, heat-laden eyes. Harry smirks back at him, as if daring Draco to do…something. 

Teddy grabs James's arm and pulls him away, trying not to look at Draco whispering something in Harry's ear, at Harry's cheeks turning pink. "I can't believe watching that doesn't trigger you," he hisses at James.

James laughs, looking back over his shoulder to watch Harry and Draco. "I love it. It's like, watching your dad's identical twin smoke a doob or something."

It had been a little strange at first, both for James and for Teddy's Harry. Harry was worried about saying the wrong things, of giving James another incongruity panic attack. But with time they realised that the best way to get over it was for Harry to be relentlessly himself, to build a relationship with James that is entirely different from James's relationship with his dad, to emphasise everything about himself that is different from the Harry who is James's dad. James took to planning "whiskey nights" with Harry and Draco, and thoroughly enjoys the experience of drinking whiskey with Harry. Harry and James both get ridiculous when they drink too much. "My dad doesn't even _like_ whiskey," James said, unsteady on his feet one night when they’d killed an entire bottle of Ogden's. "Your dad," Harry countered, sloshing the smoking whiskey down his shirt as he gestured, "doesn't even like cock." James laughed until he cried.

Andromeda and Narcissa stand arm-in-arm by the fire, discussing something and generally looking like a couple of octogenarians whom Teddy would not want to cross. They notice him, and Andromeda waves him over with a motion much less refined than Narcissa would ever make, but that somehow has all of Narcissa's grace.

Teddy and James walk to them, giving hugs and returning Samhain blessings.

"James, I love your robes," Narcissa says, leaning back to assess. "Are they from Twilfitt and Tattings's Signature line?"

"They are," James says, affecting a little twirl. 

"Lovely stitching," she breathes, running a hand down his arm, and James turns to Teddy and winks.

Teddy rolls his eyes, amused, and looks down at his own clothes: wool trousers, boots that cost more than he should've spent, a bottle-green cashmere jumper. He is the one who should be complimented on his clothes, not that he cares. But, he supposes, James is always the one who makes them stand out in a crowd; an achievement, really, given that Teddy is, more often than not, sporting turquoise hair.

"How's my great-granddaughter?" Andromeda asks with twinkling eyes, looking around the room for her.

"She's excellent!" James says. "She said 'moon' today."

"She'll be Head Girl," Narcissa says sagely, and Andromeda nods. Teddy has the feeling they're not trying to be hyperbolic. 

"Where is she?" Andromeda asks.

"With Remus," Narcissa points. Remus is talking to Tabitha as he walks around the perimeter of the room; every once in awhile she places a tiny hand on his chest. "They appear to be setting the world to rights."

Teddy smiles, watching his dad and daughter. "They could, I think."

"Of course they could," Andromeda says. "Have you performed the memorial ritual?"

"Not yet," Teddy says. He catches his dad's eye and motions him over. When they get close, Tabitha says, "Da!" and suffers through Narcissa's and Andromeda's alternating coos and serious assessment of how lovely she is. She reaches for James, who takes her and says, "Time to cast some stones?"

"One does not _cast stones_ ," Narcissa corrects. "That is something entirely different."

"My bad," James says, turning to the fire. He reaches for Teddy's hand and squeezes. "Let's remember the dead, shall we?"

Teddy picks up a stone and says the incantation. "To Ted Tonks," he says, "a talented wizard who introduced my family to the best of everything Muggle and who gave me an excellent mum." The fire flares. 

James leans forward and shows Tabitha where to grab a rock. "Hold it out for Daddy." 

Teddy smiles. "That's very helpful, Tibby, thanks. To Sirius Black, James's namesake, lover of my dad, who had excellent musical taste and was an all-around icon." The fire flares.

"To the first James and Lily," James says, holding a stone out for Teddy to spell. "Who did more to defeat Voldemort than anyone else." The fire flares.

"To Fleamont and Euphemia Potter," Teddy says, "for having a baby who had a baby who begat my love, and for creating Sleekeazy's, without which my hair would never look so good." The fire flares.

Tabitha grabs another stone and holds it out. "To Lyall Lupin and Hope Howell," Teddy says, "for coping with a parent's worst nightmare and always being there for my dad." James squeezes Tabitha a bit tighter; the fire flares.

"To everyone who died too young—in any universe," James says. The fire flares. Tabitha claps her hands.

They turn from the fire to see Tonks running at them. 

She gives James and Teddy quick kisses and squints at James's robes. "You look like Horace Slughorn in his Victorian phase." Teddy laughs, head tipping back, at James's expression.

Tonks takes Tabitha and morphs her nose into a rabbit nose, twitching it back and forth until Tabitha giggles and reaches out to touch it. "Okay," Tonks says seriously, putting her nose back to normal, "I figured out what I want to teach you today in our ongoing lessons in how to be a badass witch. First, watch this." Tonks closes her eyes and Teddy knows she's reaching for her appearance magic. She puts her fingers on her chest and spreads them. "Like that," she says, "watch." And her hair morphs from the gray-streaked orange and pink spiky bob she usually wears to a black mullet-shag. She grins. "You try! Baby magic!"

Tabitha reaches out to touch her grandma's hair, and with a blink of her eyes, her pink baby hair morphs into a copy of Tonks's. 

Tonks whoops, calling everyone's attention to them in the sombre atmosphere of the room. No one seems to mind.

James turns to Teddy, looking proper chuffed. Teddy laughs, delighted.

"Okay," Tonks says, looking at the baby with incongruous hair. "Now we do this." Tonks juggles Tabitha securely onto her left hip and raises her right hand in the air. "Na na na na na na na na!" Tonks sings, moving her hand like she's strumming a guitar and banging her head. "I don't give a damn about my reputation!"

Tabitha smiles wide and starts bobbing her head a bit, watching with awe as Tonks dances around the room singing Joan Jett.

Teddy notices that both Remus and James have their wands out, ready to cushion a fall, should Tonks tumble. But she doesn't, and Teddy smiles even bigger as he sees Lucius leave the room in a disgruntled huff.

Andromeda walks up to Tonks and, with a smile and a hand on Tonks's arm, stops their dancing and points to Narcissa, who is trying to gather everyone to the table. They all take their seats, Tabitha squirming in Teddy's lap. 

Narcissa says, "Today, the veil is thin. We honour those who came before. Those without whom we would not be here, or without whom we would not be who we are. To friends, present and departed. To the people that fill the empty chairs in our hearts." She raises her glass to the empty chair at the head of the table, and everyone around Teddy raises glasses and mumbles the blessings.

Teddy wants to roll his eyes (internally) at Narcissa's words, but he can't. He squeezes Tabitha and buries his nose in her (once more) bright pink hair as the glasses clink around them.

***

James falls into bed face first, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

Teddy laughs at him as he finishes changing Tabitha's nappy and guides her little limbs into a pair of badger pyjamas. She keeps yawning, and he picks her up, jiggling her as he lays her next to James. "Cast the Charms."

"Okay," James murmurs. "Gimmea wand."

Teddy throws James's wand at him. James grabs it and casts the charms at Tabitha, who is so exhausted from their big day that she's already falling asleep.

"Happy first Samhain, Tabitha," Teddy says, kissing her cheek. Her lips make a sucking motion despite there being nothing in her mouth, and Teddy smiles.

He's as tired as they are, and he pulls off his clothes, tossing them onto the chair they have in the corner that has never once been sat in. He climbs into bed, pulling up the covers and turning towards James. 

James cracks open an eye and scoots up on the bed so that their heads can touch well above where Tabitha sprawls in the middle of the bed. James kisses Teddy, a slow kiss that feels like sliding into a hot bath laced with Calming Potion.

"You smell good," Teddy murmurs, eyes already closed. 

"What do I smell like?" James whispers.

Teddy groans sleepily. "Urm. Cinnamon. Slyck: A Personal Lubricant for Witches and Wizards Who Like it Spicy. That pie Albus made. Incense. Rotting baby milk."

"What the fuck," James mumbles. "You think I smell like a brothel that's also a dairy farm."

"No," Teddy says, eyes closed, "you smell like home."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Spotify playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/wz2ay0oiq6i8gof2yeu4552uu/playlist/5XQ24DuS2LAqmXgVJQpNYU?si=I2MOtHR7QYiRQZbc5yYKqQ)!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](https://aibidil.tumblr.com)!


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